


Night's Spring

by dreamsoflovingness



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I hate what Tamlin has done but I genuinely think there's good deep down in him, Illyrian Camps, Illyrian Children, Illyrians, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mating Bond, Multi, Next Generation, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Prythian, Rape/Non-con Elements, Redemption, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, The Dawn Court (ACoTaR), The Night Court, The Spring Court (ACoTaR), bloodrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsoflovingness/pseuds/dreamsoflovingness
Summary: Eden hates Night. She hates Dawn. But most of all, she hates Calder.--------Eden is the daughter of one of the High Lord of Spring's sentinels. She's spent her entire life being taught by her parents that the real enemies in Prythian was the Nigh Court. Calder is the son of Nesta and Cassian. He's been taught to be kind, yet firm. But he cannot let go of what Spring had done to his family.Calder hates Spring, yet whenever he looks at Eden he feels like his very soul is begging to be by her side. Eden can't deny the quickening of her heart whenever she glances at Calder.When mysterious attacks plaguing Prythian point towards the forsaken mountain, Spring and Night must set aside their longwinded history to defeat another enemy.
Relationships: Amren/Varian (ACoTaR), Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Tamlin (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 91





	1. A New Spring

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say thank you for reading! But also, I'd like to think there's some good in Tamlin. It peaked out in different moments in ACOTAR so I'd like to think with the help of his mate and children he'd become a better man. Maybe it's just my wishful thinking.

It was quiet. They had to be or the entire lesson was going to go up in smoke. The trap had taken them far too long to set up. Florian didn’t want to touch the raw chicken, gagging any time it came near him. It would’ve been funny if she didn’t have to carry it the entire way since winnowing wasn’t allowed. 

Eden hated lessons with Tiberius. She thought they were too old to still be given lessons, but her High Lord insisted that learning was never really done. Long ago were the days where they had scheduled lessons, these days it was more of a surprise. Like the one they had been given today.  _ Catch a Suriel. Do with it what you will.  _

“What are you going to ask?” Florian whispered. 

“Nothing if you don’t shut up,” Eden hissed. A twig snapping made them look behind them. Their hands ghosted over their bandoliers. 

“I’m gonna ask about my mate. That way I can know who to start the wooing as soon as possible,” he said. Eden snorted in response. Florian was handsome, she couldn’t deny it. His long blonde hair was always neatly styled. He was tall and muscular enough. But his real secret was his smile. Florian’s smile could make anyone’s knees go weak, coupled with his flirtatious ways he could’ve had anyone eating out of the palm of his hand. Eden was glad she was immune to his ways, which infuriated him some days. Others he was glad she was the only one not kissing the ground he walked on. 

“You tired of your friend from the tavern?” Eden asked. 

“I told you he left me, something about being too hard to handle,” Florian said absentmindedly. But Eden could hear the hurt in his voice. “What about you?”

“I’m going to ask it how to shut you the hell up.”

“That’s-” Another twig snapped, making them whirl around. 

“Are you kidding me?!” Florian cried, throwing his hands into the air. Eden stared as he rambled. Florian was so free and laidback she often forgot who his father was. Who he was to the court in which she lived in. 

Eden sighed and stood up. Pain shot up her back. She hissed, leaning against a tree until the dull ache faded enough for her to notice that Florian had gone silent. His dark eyes were worried. She hated making him worry. 

“How about we just go back?” He suggested. Eden was grateful he did. The idea of abandoning any sort of task, be it a lesson or actual mission, was never one she’d give in to. Eden always saw things through to the end. 

“We’re going to have to listen to Tiberius give us a lecture about giving up.”

“Not if we go in through the window.”

***

The forest never changed. Eden was pretty sure thousands of years could go by and the trees would still be the same, would still sway to the same wind. As they approached a familiar cottage, Eden steeled herself. It’s original inhabitants were long gone yet she still found herself expecting them to stumble out the doors. The flower beds outside were empty. Eden faintly remembers them being filled with lilies and tulips when she was younger. She loved the tulips, she always had. Every year she’d eagerly awaited their bloom after Calanmai. She also remembers the tears she shed when her mother ripped them out of those same flower beds. 

Instead, when the door opened it was just Leonide. Florian whistled.

“I swear every time I see him he’s even bigger,” Florian mumbled, eying his muscular arms in awe. Leonide was huge. He towered over even the High Lord and his shoulders were broader than any the town’s tailor had ever seen. His ashy brown hair was tied back into a ponytail as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Stop ogling my brother,” she snapped.

“Eden.” His deep voice called. She simply stared. He cocked his head inside, motioning for her to go in. “Come.”

“Quite the wordsmith he is,” Florian whispered with a small smile. For as big as Leonide was, he said very little. “I can go in with you or wait for you here.”

“Go on without me, I’ll be okay,” she assured him. Florian hesitated, he always did when leaving her at the cottage. She ushered him away with another ‘go’, and soon he was walking off while constantly peeking behind him to check on her. 

Eden walked towards her older brother. Despite being siblings, they looked nothing alike. Eden was small, even by human standards she was short. When she was younger it was a sore subject but as she grew she used it to her advantage against her opponents. Her hair was the same ashy brow, but where Leonide had striking green eyes, Eden had honey eyes. Her mother once remarked that they were the eyes of her lover and how she wished she could gouge them out. Eden was horrified and hated her eyes since. 

“She sent more salve,” he said as he led her inside. Eden gingerly closed the door, taking in the cottage.

It was different than she remembered. Leonide had weapons strewn across the place. Maps of the other courts and Spring hung on the walls. Papers were everywhere. She didn’t expect anything less from the future captain of the guards. 

“Here,” he said, handing her a large tub of lilac colored salve. 

“You need some too,” she said, seeing the meager bowl he separated for himself. 

“She said she’d be sending more,” he said, “you need it more than I do.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, hugging it to her chest. The salve was solely found in the Dawn Court. It was expensive, she had tried to buy some once and was only able to leave with a sample. 

“I’ll let you know when I get more.” Leonide turned, probably to continue sharpening whatever weapon he was last using. But Eden’s back still throbbed. 

“Um, Leonide,” she asked quietly, making him turn. They hadn’t felt like siblings in so long. It was so distant between them ever since she had moved to Rosehall. “My back hurts...do you...do you think you can put some on me?”

“Of course,” he said softly, motioning for her to sit in the chair by the fireplace. Eden unbuttoned her tunic and let it slip past her shoulders as she sat, resting her arms on the back of the chair. When she felt the cool salve pressed onto her back she sighed in relief, her head resting on her arms. 

Her eyes drifted to a carving at the bottom of the fireplace. It was of a bunch of tulips. She had been yelled at for hours about it. She had only done it because she missed the tulips. 

“How can you stand being here?” She asked, his hands stopped for a moment, then continued to spread the salve all over her back.

“I think of the good times,” he answered. Eden knew there were good times, but they were so buried under the bad she wondered if she’d ever find them again. 

“Tell me some.” 

“When you were two,” he began, “you started to have nightmares. So bad that you would refuse to sleep. Then one night, I was reading by the fireplace when you walked out of your room. I patted the floor for you to lay with me and you did. I read to you until we fell asleep. Since then we both would sleep out here on bad nights, remember?”

“Mhm.” She remembers Leonide holding her on the floor as she broke down after that night. He had laid with her on him as her back screamed in agony. 

“I also remember teaching you how to handle a sword in here,” he said, “it was Calanmai and we were told not to leave no matter what. We broke a few vases.”

“Then we blamed it on the wind,” she mumbled. 

“The pesky wind,” Leonide hummed. “All done. Wait here for a few minutes for it to dry, then I’ll walk you back.”

***

They walked in comfortable silence. Even if Leonide had to slow his strides and Eden jogged to catch up with him at times. The sun was beginning to set when they finally reached Rosehall. Eden had lived there for six years and was still astounded by its beauty. Lady Lyra had prided herself on fixing it up. 

The servants, on the other hand, looked stressed. Gardeners were rushing around to trim bushes and trees. She could hear a few crying out about the fountain overflowing. A group of sentinels was taking off to check the borders. Once Eden stepped inside after bidding farewell to Leonide, she could see the maids running around. Some were cleaning, some were decorating. 

“Eden,” Lady Lyra’s soothing voice said from behind. Eden turned, seeing her warm smile. 

“Lady Lyra,” she greeted. 

“Walk with me,” Lyra said, extending her hand. Eden nodded, taking her tanned hand. Lyra linked their arms together and led her away from Rosehall towards the field of tulips. 

“What’s going on?” She asked nervously. 

“We have visitors tomorrow,” Lyra said, waving at a few passing villagers. They all waved back before nervously scurrying away. Lyra was drop dead gorgeous. Her long black hair reached her lower back. She shared the same tan skin and golden eyes of the Illyrians. Lyra once told Eden that her grandfather was an Illyrian and her mother was from the Dawn Court. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than her mate. 

“From where?” Her dark eyes were warm as Eden stared into them. 

“The Night Court,” she answered. Eden tensed. “Tamlin and I can come up with a reason to send you anywhere you’d like if you want.”

“I have nowhere to go,” Eden mumbled, eyes downcast. She couldn’t go to Dawn, her mother was there. Tamlin had forbidden any of his children, which unfortunately extended to her when she moved in, from going to Autumn. Winter, Summer, and Day were allied closely with Night. And well, she was never going to willingly step foot into the Night Court. 

“Oh Eden,” Lyra sighed as she patted Eden’s hand, “you’ll always have Rosehall.” Lyra kissed her forehead. 

“We should go inside,” Eden mumbled.

Lyra agreed, leading them both back to the manor. Eden mulled over her options again, once again coming to the conclusion that her only option was staying. 

Inside, Eden could hear Tamlin’s voice carrying from one of the sitting rooms. Lyra sighed, letting go of her arm and stalking forward. Eden followed.

In the sitting room, her High Lord was pacing as he yelled. His face was red with anger and his hands were tightly curled into fists. 

“Father it’s not that bad,” Florian said, dismissing his father with a wave of a hand. 

“You let out all the horses! Then you flooded part of the garden!” His voice boomed. Ah, so the source of the stress was once again Florian and his older brother. 

“It’ll be fixed in time,” Alder, Florian’s older brother, assured his father. Florian pressed his lips together to contain his laughter as Tamlin was at a loss for words. 

“Today, is not the day to do such things boys,” Lyra scolded, “tomorrow’s meeting is very important.”

“You two idiots are too much like Lucien and I for your own good,” Tamlin grumbled, settling for crossing his arms across his chest. Eden watched carefully until Florian burst out laughing. Followed by Alder. Lyra was softly giggling. Even Tamlin’s shoulders were shaking. 

“Why, after letting out the horses, exactly did you feel the need to flood the garden?” Tamlin questioned. 

“Preservation of innocence,” Florian answered. 

“Eulalia!” Lyra gasped, making everyone turn to see Florian’s twin sister trying to sneak past the doors of the sitting room. Eulalia smiled sheepishly. She was covered in mud, all that was visible were the eyes she shared with her twin. 

Eden turned to look out the window when a curse caught her attention. Only then did she see Leonide running off, also covered in mud.  _ That sneaky bastard, _ she thought with a small laugh. Suddenly Florians excuse made sense. 

***

It was quiet after dinner. Too quiet. Excitement was thrumming through the manor. Eden could feel it. Yet as she sat on the rooftop, all she felt was dread. 

“Mind if I sit?” Alder’s voice made her look up. Her heart quickened at the sight of him. Alder was devastatingly handsome, if you asked Eden which of the two brothers she would pick she would no doubt answer Alder. He was slightly shorter than his brother, but was more bulky. He was the only of his siblings to inherit his father’s green eyes and mother’s dark hair. Alder was decades older than her and his siblings, yet it felt as if they were only months apart the way she was with the twins.

“No,” she said softly. Eden sometimes felt closer in age to Alder’s decades than her meager 21 years. 

“Nervous about tomorrow?” He asked. 

“No,” she said, “Maybe.”

“I know what your parents tried to teach you,” Alder said, “to hate them. I know it must be hard to think otherwise. But we are not our parents.”

“No, we’re not,” she said, “but we both know that’s not the only reason I thoroughly dislike them.”

“I know,” he said softly. 

“I don’t care what they say about me. I’m worried about Florian and Eulalia,” she said. 

“I am too. They’re both so loving to everyone around them, I worry what will happen if they decide to treat them as if the sins of our father have been passed down to them.”

“Tomorrow will be interesting,” she mumbled. 

“No doubt in my mind about that,” Alder said with a sigh. He stood and offered his hand. Eden didn’t hesitate. “Rest Eden. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

“You too,” she said. Alder nodded and gave her a kind smile. He ruffled her hair before turning back and leaving her alone with the stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm really excited my story but a little nervous since this is my first time posting a fanfic. I have a lot planned for this story. Stay tuned, I'll try to post once or twice a week!


	2. History Rhymes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is some NSFW in this chapter but it's pretty minimal.

Calder grunted when Emery’s sword slammed down on his own. Despite Emery’s smaller stature, the younger male’s strength was not to be underestimated. But when he swung again, Calder was ready. He blocked the hit, knocked the sword out of Emery’s hand and pointed the tip right at his throat. 

“I win,” he said with a crooked smile. 

“No fair,” Emery whined, “we agreed no dirty moves.”

“It wasn’t dirty,” Calder countered, motioning for Emery to pick his sword back up. 

“Was to,” Emery grumbled and he picked up the sword. Calder saw his eyes gaze past him and he had a feeling he knew exactly who he was staring at. 

“Is it him? He's shirtless isn’t he?” Calder teased. 

“Shut up,” Emery hissed, clamping his hand over Calder’s mouth. Calder laughed. Emery’s black was tousled from their fight but his violet eyes burned with emotion. Had Calder known all he had to do was this to bring out any sort of fight in Emery, he would’ve done it earlier. 

“You know,” Calder said once he pulled Emery’s hand away from his mouth, “if you told them they wouldn’t treat you any different.”

“You don’t know that,” Emery whispered. Calder sighed, throwing his arm over his younger cousin’s shoulder and pulled him closer. 

“They’d love you no matter what,” Calder assured him. 

“Yeah, but what would the Court of Nightmares do if they found out?” Calder can’t deny he has thought about that. No, scratch that, he had agonized over it. He had come up with a slew of scenarios and how he’d protect his cousin for the day the wretched Court of Nightmares found out that Emery favored men not women. 

“No matter what they plan, I’ll protect you,” he said, “plus, they probably wouldn’t dare to try and get on the bad side of their future High Lord.”

“What if I take a lover? A mate? They’d be in danger,” Emery countered. When he was like this he was so much like his mother. Calder always thought Emery was a carbon copy of Feyre, except for his hair and eyes. That was his father. 

“They’d be in danger no matter what, you’re probably going to be the strongest High Lord ever. Even stronger than your father,” Calder said. 

“What of the Illyrians? Would they follow me if they found out?”

“I’d like to think they would,” Calder said, “no matter, you are their High Lord. Who you love shouldn’t change that.”

“But there’s a possibility it will,” Emery whispered. Calder hated this. He wanted nothing more than to hide Emery in his wings, to protect his cousin’s happiness. But he couldn’t do it forever. Someday Emery would have to stand and protect Calder, protect the Night Court. 

“Oof!” Calder was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Emery being knocked to the ground followed by shrieking laughter.

“Got you!” Isra’s familiar voice cried happily. 

“No fair!” Emery cried out. Isra was Emery’s older sister. The first child of the Inner Circle. Isra, unlike Emery, was the spitting image of her father. Feyre often bemoaned that although she carried both babies in her womb, they both came out with their father’s eyes and hair. 

“Gotta shape up, Emery. You’re Blood Rite is coming up,” Isra said as she helped him up. The Blood Rite. Calder shivered at the thought. Isra was the first woman to not only take part, but to finish the Blood Rite. She had been the youngest Illyrian ever to finish it at 19 years old. Calder, on the other hand, had pushed back his own Blood Rite with the hope of Emery being ready by the next year. It was next year and Calder was still debating if he was ready. Power wasn’t the question, just like his father Emery had shattered every siphon he tried to weild. 

“I know,” Emery said, nervousness in his tone. 

“You could always push it back,” Isra assured him.

“No, I need to do it,” Emery said with a steel voice. Calder smiled. 

“Well then, we better continue practicing,” Isra said. 

Calder hummed in agreement. Then a familiar scent caught his attention. Turning towards the tree he saw a very familiar female leaning against a

“You coming, Calder?” Emery asked. 

“No, go on without me,” he said. Isra scoffed, dragging Emery away as he walked over to the treeline with a wicked smile on his lips. 

“Commander’s son,” the female Illyrian said with a smirk. Calder led her deeper into the woods. Once they were far enough from the camp, he turned around and lifted her up in one swift movement. Her strong legs wrapped around his hips, powerful wings flaring.

“Teasing me now, Meissa?” He whispered into her ear, his teeth grazing her earlobe making her gasp. 

“Me? Never?” She mocked him, reaching her hand down to palm him through his trousers. Calder groaned into her neck. He dragged his tongue down her neck, reaching the one spot he knew would make her whimper. 

“No teasing today, I’ve been dreaming of you all night,” She gasped, her hands rising to grip his shoulders. 

“Then let’s not waste anymore time,” he growled, crashing his lips against hers. 

***

Calder hummed when Meissa’s fingers traced circles into his sweaty shoulder. Her head was resting on his other shoulder, occasionally pressing kisses to his tanned skin. He played with the ends of her long black hair. How they made it back to her tent, he didn’t know. Meissa drove him crazy with her long, thick legs and full breasts. Her body was a weapon of compact muscle. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Her melodic voice asked. She sat up to rest her chin on her hand so her hazel eyes were staring into his silver ones. 

“Thinking of tomorrow,” he said, her fingers twisting into his shoulder length black hair. 

“I don’t understand why you decided to take me with you. I’m just a casual fuck,” she mumbled. 

“Meissa,” he whispered, his hand cupping her cheek, “you’re so much more. I love you.”

“I know,” she said, a knowing smirk on her lips as she pressed her lips to his chest. “You up for another round before your ghastly family dinner?”

“It’s not ghastly.” He rolled his eyes as he hardened against her thigh. 

“Mmmm,” she hummed, straddling his hips. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” he gasped as her hands ghosted over the membrane of his wings. 

***

“So what? We banished to the kids table again?” Calder teased. He had flown with Meissa by his side to Velaris and straight to the House of Wind. He hadn’t told his parents he would bring his girlfriend, something which would sure anger his mother. Isra was only mildly annoyed when whatever they had begun. Meissa wasn’t the biggest fan of any High Fae and has been Isra’s rival at the camp since they were kids. But they tolerated each other for his sake. 

“No wings today?” Meissa teased Isra. Emery and Isra loved being Illyrian, they embraced it with all they had. But in Velaris, they were High Fae, children of the High Lord and they couldn’t run around as free as they did in Windhaven. 

“Unfortunately not,” Isra said, “and no, we’re not at the kids table. They’re not here yet.”

“So the kids are early for once,” Calder said as he sat on a couch across from where Emery was stretched out. Meissa sat and cuddled into his side. She flipped off Isra when she jokingly gagged. 

“I wonder what the High Lord of Spring is like,” Emery wondered. Isra groaned. Ever since they had been told they would be visiting the Spring Court, Emery would ask at least the same question at least once a day. 

“A pompous asshole,” Calder scoffed, “who I will never trust.”

“Fair enough.” 

“You think his sons are the same?” Isra questioned. 

“He also has a daughter,” Meissa added. 

“Maybe not. I heard his mate is quite diligent in raising them and in keeping Tamlin in line,” Emery said, “she’s from Dawn.”

“Peregryn?” Calder asked and Emery shook his head. 

“I bet his daughter is probably trained to be the perfect little High Lady,” Meissa snickered. 

“Oh god, a male as disgusting as him with a daughter? I can’t even imagine,” Isra shuddered. 

“I wonder if the rumors are true,” Meissa said. 

“What rumors?” Calder asked.

“Of an Illyrian bastard in the Spring Court,” Meissa said only to be met with confused looks, “none of you know?! I’ve been hearing this for as long as I can remember.”

“Well out with it then,” Isra snapped. Emery’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign he was deep in thought. 

“Well, you know how Rhysand went to visit the Spring Court with a group of Illyrian soldiers to help the High Lord train his rather large group of new sentinels?” Meissa asked. Calder had heard the story. Tamlin had rebuilt his court, he was just missing training a rather large group of sentinels. The group was too big for him to do it on his own and none of his former sentinels would be available to help him since they were busy constantly patrolling or helping rebuild. In a gesture of good faith, Rhysand had offered to go with a group of Illyrians. While the sentinels and Illyrians trained, Tamlin and Rhysand would talk politics. 

“Yeah,” Isra urged her to keep going.

“Well, the rumor goes, that one of the sentinel’s wives was very lonely. Her husband had been gone so long since he was guarding the border of the human land. So, she shacks up with one of the Illyrians thinking no big deal. But she falls pregnant. The child was born with Illyrian wings. Her husband threw a fit, demanding to know who the child’s father was. She didn’t give him up. Instead, they bound the child’s wings. That’s why no one knows who it is. Their wings have been bound since birth, so they easily hide under their clothes,” Meissa said, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. But all Calder felt was disgust. The idea of his wings being eternally bound made them twitch uncomfortably.

“That’s a load of bullshit,” Isra countered. 

“It’s true!” Meissa insisted, “The wings grew deformed, they probably can’t even fly.”

“That’s awful,” Emery whispered, his eyes faraway, “if this is real….that’s so cruel.”

“What? Are you going to find them and bring them home?” Meissa’s tone was bordering on mocking. Calder sent her a warning growl. Meissa drove him mad, but she was rough around the edges. More than once she had hurt Emery’s feelings and then had to apologize as the younger male sulked. 

“Maybe,” he snapped. 

“Ah, look at the younglings!” Calder’s father’s voice boomed as he landed on one of the many balconies. Calder just rolled his eyes as he set his mother down gently. 

“Next time, family dinner is at a place we can winnow to,” she warned as Calder stood to greet her. 

“Awe c'mon Nes, you know you love flying,” Cassian teased as Calder hugged his mother. She rested her hands on her swollen belly when he pulled away to hug his father. Cassian clapped his son on the back. 

“This is a family dinner,” Nest said, voice cold and expression hard. Calder sighed. 

“She’s my girlfriend, mother,” he said. 

“Next time, do not bring her,” Nesta warned and stalked off. Calder wanted to rip his hair out. He had tried everything to get his mother to like Meissa, but for some reason she never warmed up to her. His other family members had, maybe not Emery but he at least tolerated her. 

“Let’s go have a wonderful dinner,” Cassian said, his warm smile directed at everyone. 

Calder couldn’t shake his mother’s glare. Sure, he had pulled this a few times before. But this time, her eyes were burning holes into the side of his head. Feyre had greeted Meissa with a tight hug, he couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t. Instead he settled for having one hand on Meissa’s thigh as he waited for his uncle to show up. 

Meissa probably hadn’t made the best impression on his mother, admittedly. He should’ve warned her beforehand about how sensitive his mother was to the topic of Hybern. Nesta was turned off the moment Meissa even brought up her beheading the King. But Calder didn’t think it was fair, plenty of others brought it up around her. 

A ripple of power made him look up. His uncle was walking in with such grace Calder could only ever hope to emulate but never truly achieve. Even Emery, although young and awkward, had the same oily movements of his father. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Rhysand apologized as he sat down, “got caught up in last minute arrangements.”

“We’re only inclined to believe you’re being honest because Feyre has been sitting here the entire time,” Cassian said. 

“Oh Cassian, do be so naive to think that-”

“Please, for the love of all things holy, do not finish that,” Isra groaned as Emery jokingly gagged. Calder chuckled at the siblings’ antics.

“Consider yourselves lucky,” Rhysand said with a fond laugh as he ruffled Emery’s hair. 

With a wave of Rhysand’s hand the table was full of food. Calder’s mouth watered at all the dishes they couldn’t get in Illyria. 

“Should we go straight into it or wait until dinner is finished?” Isra asked. 

“Little one, you know we don’t discuss work at dinner,” Rhysand said. 

“It’s not work...it’s gossip,” Isra said with a smile. Rhysand sighed, but motioned for her to go on.

“I heard an interesting rumor, Father, and I want you to tell me if it’s true.”

“Oh?” Rhysand sat up, playing right into Calder’s cousin’s whims. It was what made Rhysand fun, he knew exactly when they wanted but he still made them work for it. His own father would’ve been begging to know the gossip, which was fun when Calder refused and his father was nearly on his knees. Calder liked to joke that in his old age his father had become quite the gossiper. On more than one occasion he had been caught with the older women of Windhaven exchanging gossip. 

“Oh indeed,” Emery continued. 

“We heard there might be an Illyrian in the Spring Court, well half,” Isra said, “with their wings bound-”

“Untrue,” Rhysand said, “I’ve been hearing that story since I was your age. Illyrians had quite the reputation.”

“So much for it being true,” Isra mumbled, glancing at Meissa. 

“Since we’ve already touched on the subject,” Feyre said, visibly uneasy at the mention of the court she had once thought she belonged to. Calder’s blood boiled at the uncomfortable look on his aunt’s face. Perhaps he was too protective like his mother, but he didn’t care. He’d tear that damned court to ribbons if his aunt asked him. She never would, of course, she’d never put any of her children or nephew in such a position. His mother, on the other hand, would probably help him do it. 

“I know all of you know what Tamlin did to me, to us,” Feyre said, glancing at his Aunt Elain and Uncle Azriel who sat at the far end of the table. Elain tensed, but shadows danced across her shoulders which made her smile lovingly at Azriel. Then at his mother, who gripped his father’s hand in a tight grip. “But I do not want that to reflect on his children. They are innocent, not even thoughts in his head when what happened between us occurred. I’m sure other courts do not feel this way, but at the Night Court we do not judge people by the actions of others, only their own. Tamlin is one thing, his children are another. Understood?”

“But mother,” Isra protested, “how can they be any better than him?”

“Isra,” Rhysand said, “give them a chance. Last I was there, Alder was a charming boy.”

“Now he’s a full grown man who could possibly be an exact replica of his father,” Calder said harsher than he intended to. “I’m sorry Aunt Feyre, but I will not let what they have done to you simply be ignored.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Feyre said. If Rhysand and Isra weren’t sitting between them, Calder was sure her hand would be on his shoulder. 

“But we do need to be on our best behavior,” Rhysand said, “our relationship with the Spring Court is...fragile. They are the only court that can protect the humans in a moment’s notice, it would be of value for us to stay in their good graces.”

“By best behavior-” 

“I mean no shenanigans, that goes for you three,” Rhysand said, pointing at Calder and his cousins. Mor and Cassian suppressed their laughs, 

“At least I can go to the Summer Court,” Calder shot back. 

“Oh son, you wound me,” Cassian said, dramatically throwing himself into his seat. 

“As much as I enjoy the bantering, I’m starving,” Nesta interrupted. 

“You heard the woman, let’s dig in,” Cassian said.

“Yes, let’s dig in,” Rhysand said. 

Calder smiled at Meissa as he served some food on his plate and some on hers. He noticed how she stayed silent, how bored she looked. He sighed. Hopefully he’d be able to mend whatever semblance of a relationship she could have with his mother. 

***

Calder yawned as he threw himself onto his parents bed. It wasn’t often that he was in Velaris anymore and gods how he had missed their townhouse. The same townhouse that had once belonged to Feyre and Rhysand. They had gifted it to his parents when they came back from their extended time in the Illyrian mountains. 

“Hey, move,” Nesta’s voice was soft, the tone reserved only for him and his father. Calder simply lifted his head so she could slide her legs underneath. He rested his head on her thighs and her slim fingers began to comb through his hair. 

“Where’s the girl?” Nesta asked. 

“Asleep in my room. I wasn’t tired yet,” he said. Lies. Meissa and him had argued. All he had asked was for her to tell him if she wanted to leave the next family dinner, which she called a pompous activity. Which then spun into Meissa voicing her disain for Velaris and it’s High Fae, once again. Calder knew she was Illyrian through and through, down to her loyalty lying only with Windhaven. But he wished sometimes she’d try to see Velaris was just as much his home as Windhaven. 

“Hm.” Nesta groaned and shifted, making Calder sit up.

“Are you sure you're up to traveling, mother?” Calder asked worriedly.

“Yes, now don’t worry and lay back down. Your hair is knotted, do you even take a comb to it?” She lectured. He hesitantly laid back down, feeling her slim fingers gently comb his tousled hair.

“Why don’t you like Meissa?” he whispered. 

“She’s not good for you,” Nesta answered simply, “she hurts you.”

“Mother,” he sighed. 

“No. I hurt your father enough to know,” she said remorsefully. Calder knew she still struggled with it, she still felt guilty. When he was a kid he had seen her crumple if anything she said struck a chord within his father. She wasn’t done healing then, she wasn’t done healing now. 

_ “Healing, my joy, is a lifelong process.” _ She had once told him. Calder felt his eyes get heavier as she continued to comb his hair. 

“Sleep, my joy,” she whispered. It didn’t take long for Calder’s eyes to close. 

“Are we getting sentimental or sad tonight?” Cassian asked as he walked out from the connected bathroom. His hair was still wet when he shook his head, making droplets land on Nesta’s cheek. 

“Reflecting is all,” Nesta answered. Her hands were still combing through Calder’s hair, despite her having detangled it already. “I do not like Meissa...she...”

“I understand, but that was the past, sweetheart,” he said in a soft whisper, “we’ve come so far.”

“It doesn’t erase what I did. I do not want Calder to experience the pain you did,” Nesta whispered, looking up at Cassian with watery eyes. He sighed, gently kissing her forehead. Then her cheek. Then her lips. 

“You can’t shield him from the world,” Cassian said, “he must stumble and fall then pick himself up on his own.”

“I wish I could spare him of any pain,” she said. 

“I do too, but it is part of life,” Cassian said, “I’ll take him to his room.”

“No. Leave him here...just a little longer. I miss him so much when he’s gone.”

“Okay,” Cassian said softly, his own hand falling to stroke his son’s cheek with his thumb. “He will be better than all of us one day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Inner Circle!! Yes!! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'd like to think Calder is the perfect blend of Nesta and Cassian but well...nothing is every truly perfect is it?  
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!!


	3. The Breeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switched up what I think Rosehall would look like on the inside. The book describes it as having black and white chequered floors and honestly....that ain't it. If you want to know what I used as reference for Rosehall look up the Marble House in Newport, Rhode Island. The first time I went I was drooling at how beautiful it was.

“Fuck,” Eden cursed. Her fingers were trembling so she couldn’t get the lace of her boot through the last hole and she was going to be late, meaning she wouldn’t have the security of blending in and all she could think was  _ why the fuck are my hands shaking so much _ . 

“Eden?” Alder called into her room as he knocked. She told him to come in, which he didn’t hesitate to do. He sighed at the sigh of her struggling with her laces. He walked over, kneeling down and gently swatting her hands away as he took up the task. “What’s got you so worked up?”

Eden just stared at his long fingers as they expertly laced her boots. Alder sighed, moving to her next boot. She didn’t know if he knew, if he understood. But she was grateful he didn’t press her further. 

When he finished he stood, pulling her up along with him. His warm hand wiped her cheeks. 

“Rinse your face,” he mumbled. Eden nodded, walking towards her bathroom. “Eden.” She turned to face him. “What you’ve lost does not define you. Neither what your mother taught you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Mother above, had she been needing for someone,  _ anyone _ to remind her of that. 

“I’ll meet you in the hall,” Alder said, slipping out of her room. 

Eden gulped, washing her face until her cheeks were no longer flushed and the tear stains were gone. She stared at herself, really stared at herself. Damn, since when did she look so...run down. Her eyes were dull, duller than she could remember. Purple bags marred the skin under her eyes. Her neck length curls hadn’t been properly cared for in weeks, maybe even months, and her usually tan skin was pale. 

She knew exactly what had been plaguing her, withering her away. It was hidden away under her mattress. Enough, she thought, you are strong. You must be. With that thought she wiped her face and met Alder in the hallway. He tilted his head in a question which she answered with a nod. She would face the Night Court unafraid. They would not reduce her to the small child she once was. 

Warmth was the first thing he felt as they winnowed in. He had never felt warmth like that in the Night Court, it was as if the sun was gently grazing his skin. It was nothing like the blistering heat of the Summer Court. Floral scents filled his nose: roses, tulips, lilies, orchids. His aunt Elain would’ve been in heaven. 

His eyes drifted up to the High Lord and Lady. Tamlin and Lyra Laverne. They stood there in matching green clothing with gold trims that contrasted against his family's black attire. Behind them stood two males and women. The shorter male wore white, the other in blush. The first woman, taller than what Clader concluded to be her brothers, wore a lilac tulle dress. But his eyes lingered on the last Fae, a lesser Fae judging by her rounded ears. Probably the shortest one out of all the Fae there, save for his aunt Amren but she was off traveling. His eyes traced over the curves of her body. 

At the sight of his mother’s clenched jaw he flexed his wings. He had argued with his father about her coming, she was with child and what if the meeting turned violent? What if she fell ill? Of course she had chastised him for worrying so much and his father simply shook his head, patting his shoulder. Fury burned in her eyes as she saw Tamlin’s hand interlaced with the woman next to him. 

“Rhysand, Feyre welcome to the Spring Court,” Lady Lyra greeted warmly, a graceful smile on her lips. “Please do come in.”

Both stepped aside to let their guests pass. Feyre noticeably tensed as she passed a stoic Tamlin. But one reassuring look from Lyra had Tamlin smiling down at her. Calder wondered if he deserved it, after everything he did, did he really deserve the love of a mate?

Lyra eventually let go of her mate, leading them down the hall. Calder had heard of Rosehall, and had seen it in his aunt’s paintings. Despite his feelings, he had to admit the manor was a sight to behold. Marble coated the floors and walls. If Calder craned his neck to look at the ceiling there were paintings depicting different moments of Prythian’s history. If he stared long enough they seemed to glimmer and move. 

“A bit pretentious if you ask me,” Meissa muttered under her breath, which earned her a hard stare from Nesta. 

Eventually Lyra led them into a parlor with the lightest shade of blue Calder had ever seen on the walls and floor. Yet as they walked in, the High Lord’s children were missing. Only the lesser Fae girl remained, standing dutifully close to the wall. 

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” Lyra said with a smile, leaning to grab the girl’s wrist and sit her down on one of the couches. She was notably uncomfortable, but still was able to meet his eyes. Fuck, her eyes were the color of golden honey. 

Meissa dragged him down onto a couch that faced a fireplace, muttering about her wings. Calder had no qualm about tucking them closer to his back, which Meissa hated doing. 

Nesta had sat on a chair next to him while Feyre, Rhysand, and their children took up the couches on the left, across from the High Lord and Lady of Spring. 

As if on cue, a woman walked in pushing a cart filled with food. Calder’s mouth watered as she set down the assortment of desserts and sweets found only in the Spring Court. He didn’t miss the way she winked at Feyre as she served her tea. 

“Thank you Alys,” Lyra said, taking the teapot from her hands and finished serving. 

“Now Tamlin, where have your children run off to?” Rhysand finally spoke up. Calder tensed, expecting rage. 

“Off getting into trouble as they usually are,” Tamlin sighed with a wave of his hand, “be grateful you only have two. I have three. Eden is our saving grace.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, which Tamlin responded to with a small shake of his head. 

“I swear on the Mother, on the Cauldron, on my mate’s life wherever she may be, that you two  _ idiots _ make my life unnecessarily difficult,” A male’s voice grumbled. 

The taller male then flew into the room, cackling and plopping down next to Eden. He slung his arm behind her, then gently shoved her knee with his which only made her roll her eyes and pass one of the desserts. 

“Florian,” Lyra warned, “those are for the guests.”

“Only one, I swear,” he said, eyes scanning them. Calder saw how they lingered on Emery, who had gone stiff. Florian winked and Calder heard the shift in Emery’s breath. Oh, they were definitely talking about that later. 

“And there’s the missing two,” Florian said as the other woman walked in. She was fumbling with her dress, which was notably more disheveled than before. The shorter male followed her. 

“Rhysand, Feyre this is Eulalia and Alder,” Tamlin said. Both smiled warmly before taking their seats.

“I suppose it’s only fair we too introduce our children,” Rhysand said, “Emery and Isra are Feyre and mine. Calder is Nesta and Cassian’s son. Meissa is his companion.”

“You didn’t have to tell me whose son he was,” Tamlin said, motioning towards Calder, “he is the spitting image of your General.”

“Isn’t it that the most damning thing, you carry them for months on end, birth them, only for them to look like these bastards?” Lyra said, which made Feyre laugh. 

“It is,” Feyre agreed.

“Lucien will be joining us later,” Tamlin said. Calder was glad there would be at least one mediator. 

“He informed us,” Feyre said.

“Let us eat before Florian hogs all the honey pastries,” Lyra joked. 

The food, admittedly different from what he was used to, was nonetheless good. Florian was onto something with the honey pastries, he had no doubt he could eat an entire cart’s worth and not feel sick. 

“And your lands, are they well?” Rhysand asked. 

“Better,” Tamlin said, “Alder and Eulalia ride out every week to the outward villages.”

“What of the village near here?” It was Feyre who questioned, her voice heavy with history.

“Rebuilt,” he answered stiffly, “Florian goes to the tavern frequently.”

“I could take you for a tour if you’d like High Lady, ditch these old men and come have fun with us younglings,” Florian breathed.

“An outing with Spring’s youngest would be fun,” she said with a small laugh. Florian grinned triumphantly and then went on a tangent on how the Rose Ale was much better than the regular Ale. 

Caler stared at Eden, ignoring the rest of whatever small talk they felt needed to fill the air. Her long sleeved tunic was rolled up at the sleeves to reveal the faintest scars on her arm. He couldn’t place what could’ve caused them. His eyes then trailed up to her face. This woman had captured his attention enough to drown out Meissa’s mutterings. 

She turned to look at him, her eyes hardening. Was she...she was glaring at him. Calder scoffed softly, leaning back into his seat. He hadn’t said anything yet her piercing gaze wouldn’t leave him. It was beginning to unnerve him. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Florain finally announced. 

“Ah shit,” Alder cursed under his breath.

“But father, we presented ourselves. Made small talk, ate. Do we really need to stay for the next however many hours you two will be stroking each other’s egos?” Florian asked.

“Florian,” Alder hissed. 

“What?” He shrugged. 

“You...you test my patience greatly son,” Tamlin said with the smallest smile peaking through, “but I suppose such tedious things may drive you insane which will only drive me insane and I cannot watch you eat another honey pastry. So yes, Florian, you may leave. Alder, Eden you may leave if you wish as well. But Eulalia, as my heir, it would benefit you to stay.”

“Your daughter is your heir?” Rhysand asked. 

“She is,” Tamlin growled lowly, “is that an issue?”

“No, surprising is all,” Rhysand said. Florian silently took the plate of honey pastries as he stood. 

“Florian, leave the honey pastries,” Tamlin said, which stunned Calder because the High Lord hadn’t even turned to see his son stealing them.

“It was Eden,” he defended, shoving the plate into her hands then quickly dragging her out of the room. 

“As much as I love you, dear sister, I will gouge my eyes out if I have to listen to anymore of this smalltalk,” Alder said, ruffling Eulalia’s hair and also leaving. 

Isra took the moment to shoot pleading glances at her parents. There was no hope for Emery, Calder decided. But he agreed with Alder, anymore back and forth dancing around what they came for and he might fall asleep. He also wanted to follow Eden out. 

“Isra, put the pout away, you and Calder may go,” Rhysand said with a chuckle. “Unfortunately, Emery, I agree with Tamlin. You should stay.”

Isra didn’t hesitate and neither did Meissa, both women walking out. Calder glanced at his mother. She nodded. Only then did he get up, following the rest of the group out. 

They had convened outside in the second gardens. Florian was laid out on the grass with his head in Eden’s lap and shoveling more pastries down his throat. 

“I hope you choke on those damned things,” Alder said from his seat on one of the benches. 

“That’s rich coming from you the way you were inhaling the ladyfingers,” Florian countered. Isra and Meissa stood, watching the Spring children lounge in the sun. 

“Must be nice to have the time to lounge around,” Meissa snickered. Isra gave her a warning glance.

“Yes it is,” Florian breathed, looking up at Eden, “you didn’t eat.”

“No because I ate breakfast like a civilized person,” she countered, flicking his nose. 

“Well what should we do with the Night’s children?” Florian said, his attention on them. 

Calder had heard stories of him, the charming son of the High Lord. He had made his aunt relax in a place that held such dark memories for her. He had stolen Emery’s breath. And now, he was directing his charm onto them. 

“I don’t know if you can handle me,” Meissa said, which snapped him out of his thoughts. He had missed what Florian had said, but it didn’t take long to guess it was about bedding her. Before Calder could even growl Florian was laughing. 

“If only, it would be the single greatest experience for you. Lucky for your stunning partner, I’d rather have him,” Florian said. 

“Is that an invitation?” Calder smirked. 

“My room is always open,” Florian said, then sat up, “what to do...what to do...Alder, what should we do? Should we go hunting?”

“No.”

“We should sparr, see if you can keep up with us,” Meissa suggested. 

“Spring versus Night,” Isra added, “this is going to be fun.”

“Absolutely not,” Alder snapped. 

“It’ll be fun Alder,” Eden spoke up, “it’ll be especially fun to watch the run back to their parents with their tail between their legs.”

Perhaps they had underestimated them. No, they had definitely underestimated them. Calder grunted as Florian sent another kick to his ribs, which he caught and used to pull him close enough to strike. But Florian slithered out of reach, grabbing Calder’s neck from behind and using his body to send them onto the ground. His face smacked into the soft sand they were on and it was filling his mouth when Florian let go, roaring with laughter. Calder pushed himself off the ground, spitting out the sand.

“I see the Illyrians don’t believe in flexibility,” Florian said, offering a hand to Calder, “you should. It’s beneficial in other, more interesting aspects of life as well.”

“Is that all you think about?” Calder said through his own laughs, taking his extended hand and letting Florian help him up. Despite his slimer physique, Florian had floored Calder twice. 

“Maybe. Besides, I don’t have the same brute strength you do,” Florian explained, “so I had to get creative. Isn’t that right Eden, my star pupil?”

“Uh-huh,” she grunted from her place on the floor. 

While Alder and Isra were still dancing around each other, neither willing to strike first or too uninterested, Eden and Meissa were a mess of tangled limbs on the floor. Calder could see Eden was laying on one of Meissa’s wings, pinning her arm and shoulder with her legs while her hands were pushing away her other wing’s talon. 

“Should we stop them?” he asked. 

“Perhaps,” Florian said. 

“Get off!” Meissa roared and Calder flew into action. He grabbed her wing as Eden’s hand slipped, stopping the talon inches from her throat. 

“That’s enough,” Calder huffed, struggling against Meissa’s furious wing. Eden glared at both of them as she let go and rolled off her wing. 

“No one else went after our wings,” Meissa snarled, grabbing Eden’s ankle and sending her face first into the sand. The glare she shot at Meissa when she turned made Calder shiver. There was only hate in her eyes as their soft honey color darkened. 

“If you weren’t so careless with them I wouldn’t have reached them,” Eden spat, kicking Meissa’s jaw to free her ankle. She stood, glaring down at the Illyrian female. “Your strength is only half the battle, you lack the strategic intelligence to outwit me. Are all Illyrians so...dull.” 

If she wasn’t threatening his girlfriend and insulting his people, Calder would’ve been impressed. None of the Illyrian girls back at Windhaven ever stood up to Meissa, none wanted to risk her lashing out at them or whatever revenge she would eventually enact on them. 

“That’s enough for today,” Alder called out, he was on the floor with Isra towering triumphantly over him. 

“Oh, Leonide!” Florian called over. Leonide Vesna. Another individual from the Spring Court whose name leaked into the other courts. But not for the same flirtatious reasons as Florian. No, Leonide was notoriously huge. Even Rhysand had commented on it and Leonide had only been six years old at the time. Looking at him Calder could confirm that yes, he was taller than him and broader. Cauldron help whoever angered him. 

“How about a friendly match between Eden and Leo?” Florian suggested. 

Meissa crossed her arms across her chest and scoffed at the idea. Eden was so much smaller than Leonide, eye level with his chest. She didn’t reach his shoulders. Yet Florian was suggesting that they fight. Isra was notably curious but worried. 

Calder gulped. Something deep within him was telling him to stop Florian, to shut him up. To make him pay for even suggesting it. But Meissa’s arm linked with his, grounding him. He didn’t know Eden, yet she seemed to be consuming his thoughts. 

“Fine,” Eden said with a shrug. 

They stepped onto the sand, staring at each other. Calder waited with bated breaths for someone to start. 

Eden was the first, she sunk to the floor in an attempt to take out his knees. Leonide was ready and brought up his knee to knock her down to the ground. She rolled out of the way of his income hands, instead she grabbed his wrist, twisting it back. A small yelp left her lips as his other hand twisted in the back of her shirt, lifting her off the ground. Her legs dangled as Leonide stared at her with the same bored expression. But she swung up, wrapping her legs around his neck. He raised an eyebrow as twisting his hand, which quickly shifted into an expression of pain. She moved so one leg was wrapped around his neck as she pulled his arm back, making him fall to one knee. Her other leg eventually hooked under his knee. It didn’t take long for Leonide’s leg to give out as he tapped on her leg. Eden let go, tumbling onto the ground. 

“You’ve gotten better, sister,” he gasped. 

Calder gaped at them. Sister?! Siblings?! They held no resemblance, except maybe their hair color. 

“Emery better take notes, because I need you to teach me that move to do it on him,” Isra said. Eden stared, her eyes looking her up and down for a moment. 

“I’ll teach you, Eden is abysmal at teaching.” Florian stepped him. 

“I need to talk to you,” Leonide mumbled, his hand wrapping around her forearm. Holy shit how big was this dude, his entire hand fit around her arm. She nodded, letting him guide her away. 

He watched her go. Her small form jogged to keep up with her brother, even if he slowed down some of his steps. Never did he think this trip would begin with his thoughts being consumed with a Spring Court Fae. But Eden didn’t belong here, not entirely. She belonged elsewhere. She should go wherever the wind carried her. 

Calder sighed, letting the breeze wrap around him. It seemed alive here like it was another inhabitant of the Spring Court. The wind brushed past Eden carrying her scent towards him. When it reached him, it slammed into him. It took every ounce of felt control not to groan in pleasure as his eyes rolled back. She smelled of sweet, fresh tulips and warmth. His eyes slowly opened. 

Eden had aso frozen, her eyes narrowed on him. 

That damned breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop. The breeze really pulled a Suriel in this chapter. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I loved writing it!


	4. The Past Behind Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew this one took waaaaaay longer to write than I intended.

12 Years Ago

“Mama!” The child cried out, her small arm reaching through the bars. It was dark, so dark. Fear was seizing her breaths, squeezing her chest. What had she done wrong? Why was Mama mad at her? She had promised a fun week, just the two of them. So why had she put her here? She kept crying, kept screaming until her voice was hoarse and throat raw. 

“Would you shut up,” A high fae hissed at her, making her whimper and cower back into the shadows. 

She could faintly hear voices, music. But none of it was comforting, it only invoked more terror. All she could do was pull her knees into her chest as she cried. 

“Mama,” she whimpered in the dark, dank cell. 

Where was the high lord? She had heard he was kind. And the high lady? She was Prythian’s savior. Where were they? 

She had seen them, perched on their thrones with evil in their eyes. They laughed darkly, drinking as her mother dragged her by the arm away from them. She wanted to run to them, to throw herself at their mercy when she realized Mama was going to punish her again. Maybe they would pity her and take her in. Maybe they’d give her a quick death instead. 

Instead she was thrown in the cell with an order to stay quiet. 

She curled into the dirt, her body trembling as the cold seeped into her bones. She wanted to go home. 

Iovita cried out as pleasure ran through every part of her. Her breasts bounced as she finished off the man underneath her until he too was crying out. Leaning forward she trapped his lips in a harsh, unloving kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair and tugged her back. 

“It’s been too long Iovita,” he breathed. She smirked as he attacked her neck. 

“Eager are we?” she mocked, pushing him back down. 

“Stay with me,” he said, his fingers slipping off her waist as she stood.

“Here? In this horrid place?” She scoffed. 

“Then why come at all? Why bring the child?” He asked. 

“I have one more visit before I can go,” she said, “than and only then, will I be free.” 

Present Day

Feyre sighed. She hated to admit how well she slept, in the Spring Court of all places. It was all so familiar yet different at once. Rhysand had pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades before whispering her that he’ be joining Tamlin on a hunt. 

_ How’s the hunting going? _ She rolled and stretched until her bones popped. 

_ Alder is spectacularly terrible at staying quiet, which only makes Tamlin shush him and scare any potential prey off. Lucien has arrived, by the way. _ Feyre laughed at the image of an irritated Tamlin slapping his hand over his son's mouth as Emery tried to shoot a deer. 

_ Well with Lucien there I know we won’t starve. _ Rhysand sent her an image of Lucien and Isra. Lucien was playfully trying to trip Isra as they walked through the forest which only made her daughter try to do the same. Ever since they were children Lucien had been the “fun uncle.” It pained Cassian to no end, but they argued that Lucien didn’t wake them up at the crack of dawn for training. It didn’t hurt that Lucien fell into the role easily, sometimes it was the only moments where he’d let the tension bleed out of his shoulders and a smile grace his lips. 

“Feyre?” It was Lyra on the other side of the door. Feyre softly groaned and rolled out of bed. As much as she hated to admit it, Tamlin always had a talent for buying the softest mattresses. Alys had mentioned it was more for his children than him. 

Feyre opened the door, seeing Lyra standing there. She wasn’t in the extravagant clothes and jewels as the day before, instead she was in a simple Dawn Court dress with her hair freely flowing down her back. 

“I was hoping you would join me for breakfast. Knowing Alder he’ll manage to drag this out the entire day,” she said. Feyre blinked.  _ He’s scaring the animals away on purpose _ . 

_ Interesting _ . Rhysand hummed. 

“Feyre?”

“Oh! Breakfast yes!” She answered, “let me get ready and I’ll meet you there.”

“No need to change, I didn’t,” Lyra waved her hand, “My room, breakfast in bed just us ladies.”

Bed. Tamlin’s room. She had never gone in when she lived here, he had always come to hers. Going now felt...wrong. She wasn’t privy to it as his fiance, what gave her the right to go in now.

“Can we have it in here instead?” She mumbled. Lyra nodded softly. Feyre stepped aside to let her in. 

Lyra floated past her, lounging on bed and wiggling her fingers. It was only a few moments before Alys appeared with a cart full of food. She pushed it into the room, then excused herself. Lyra was the one to lay out the dishes and tea pot on the table in the room. 

Lyra was an enigma to Feyre. Lyra was such a soft, free flowing person in a place that had once trapped her. She had managed to ensnare Tamlin’s temper, or she hoped that Lyra had. Feyre couldn’t stomach the thought of another woman being at the receiving end of his rage. 

“Sit,” Lyra said with a smile. Feyre hesitated, but did so. Why was she so nervous? She was the High Lady of the Night Court, no longer was she the scared girl who was promised to be a man’s trophy. 

“Will Nesta not join us?” Feyre asked. 

“No, when I went to see her she said she was having morning sickness. Pregnancy is a wonderful yet hellish thing, isn’t it?” Lyra said. It was silent for a few moments. Feyre made a mental note to take Nesta some food once they finished, maybe she’d ask Alys to make her tea. 

“Where are the rest of the children?” Feyre finally asked as Lyra served herself a generous amount of food.

“Florian, Eulalia, and Emery are lounging in the rose garden. When I checked on Eden she was still asleep,” Lyra answered, “she’s never been an early riser and has had trouble sleeping before so we leave her be. But surely Alys will rouse her to come join us soon enough.”

“How long has she lived here?” Feyre asked, reaching for a biscuit. 

“It’ll be...oh six years now? She was 15 at the time, now she’s 21 so yes! Six years! Most of the time it feels like she’s lived here her entire life. Since the moment she and Florian met they’ve been glued to each other’s hips,” Lyra gushed.

“She’s a wonderful girl,” Feyre said.

“She is,” Lyra said. A knock made them turn towards the door. 

“Come in,” Feyre called out. Instead of Eden, a large blonde male walked in. 

“Leonide,” Lyra said kindly, “what brings you here so early?”

“I was hoping to borrow Eden for a few hours,” he said. His voice was so soft it caught Feyre off guard. 

“Leo,” Lyra tsked, “you never have to ask to visit her, she’s your sister.”

“I know, but I’d never want to overstep her boundaries,” Leonide said, “is she still asleep?”

“Yes,” Lyra grabbed a plate and put an assortment of pastries, biscuits, and sandwiches on it then handed it to Leonide, “here, for the both of you.”

“Thank you Lady Lyra,” he said, excusing himself and leaving the two women alone. 

“May I ask your relation to Eden and Leonide?” Feyre asked. 

“Yes, of course. It might seem strange to someone not from here,” Lyra said, “Eden is the daughter of one of Tamlin’s sentinels and an old friend of mine. She was a good mother to Leonide, but never to Eden. That poor child was only ever mistreated by her. Leonide was the one to ask Tamlin and I to take her. We could never refuse, she spent so much time here as it was. Aside from that, Tamlin could never stomach the way she was treated at home. He had offered countless times to take her in, but her parents always refused. I could never understand it.”

Sorrow Feyre’s heart for the young girl. Gone were the days where Nesta was cruel, mean. But Feyre could understand her, forgiving her took years, but Feyre understood that her sister was just as burdened as she once was. 

“I hope you can forgive her, Feyre, if she says anything out of line or harsh,” Lyra said, her hand grasping Feyre’s.

“What do you mean?” Feyre asked. 

“Eden’s parents were of the kind who sided with Hybern. Then with Amarantha. They did not think very highly of your court,” Lyra said pleadingly, “she’s trying so hard to not be like them. Once she feels like she’s overcome it, her mother appears to drag her back down.”

Anger filled her heart this time. Not at Eden, Feyre didn’t think she could feel that towards a child. Eden’s mother, whoever that female was, should wish that she never crosses paths with her. 

“Leonide is kind, he tries so hard to help her, but those years with her mother…”Lyra trailed off. Feyre squeezed her hand gently. 

“I understand,” Feyre assured her, “Eden will always be welcome in the Night Court, as well as any of your children.”

The room fell into silence again. She refrained from asking the question she had been thinking since she arrived and saw them together. Could that have been them? She doesn’t know. She had spent so much time in the Spring Court, she had died for him. Yet, her reward was to be confined to this house. To have her nightmares ignored as she wasted away next to the man who was supposed to love and care for her. To have her life be run my outdated ideas and priestesses who only cared about gaining power. 

“Is it….is it easy to love him?” She asked tentatively. Lyra sighed. 

“No,” she admitted, “but I was just as difficult to love. I was not very open to the idea of mates and he was as well…”

“How did you do it?” Feyre had to know, she needed to know that Lyra was safe before she left. 

“Lots of talking. It was arguing at first but...just being honest with each other. Promises of being better are empty when you don’t try, and Cauldron, did I make his life miserable for a while.” A faint smile spread across Lyra’s lips. “We were rather petty with each other at first. I’d tell him I disliked grapes and the next morning for breakfast there was a whole spread of them. He told me he disliked the way papaya smells so I practically bathed in it.” 

Then her smile faded for a moment. 

“There were days he struggled, where his anger got the better of him. There were days I couldn’t get out of bed. He was always so patient with me those days...I felt liked I owed him the same. I talked him down one day and something in him just...broke,” Lya breathed, “it got better from there. We aired out all our dirty laundry then. I know what he’s done and I will never try to justify how he treated you Feyre,” Lyra’s hand reached across the table to grab ahold of Feyre’s, “it was wrong and shameful. But he’s a changed male now. I wouldn’t stay with him, wouldn’t have had children with him, wouldn’t have allowed Eden in this house if he hadn’t.”

There was no anger. No malice. Feyre had no reason to be. She had her mate, her own children. Her court. Her family. Yet, a part deep inside of her felt peace. She can’t deny that at one point in time she loved Tamlin. Her heart was solely his and she was completely devoted to him. That’s not something you can so easily leave behind, to forget. Yet hearing Lyra’s words Feyre could finally close that chapter in her, one she thought she had until she stepped back into the Spring Court. 

“The children helped him more than they ever know,” Lyra said, “he still had his bad days before, but the minute Alder was in his arms there was such peace I had never seen in him before. They are his entire reason for being and I’m convinced he’d use me as a shield to protect them.

“I’m the same,” Feyre laughed incredulously. Who knew that one day she’d ever agree with Tamlin? Especially on the idea of throwing their mates in front of their children as shields.

“I never wanted him to get better for me. He had to get better for himself. And he was, I suppose children just change everything. Puts a lot more things in perspective,” Lyra said. 

“Rhysand was terrified when I told him I was pregnant,” Feyre said, “he fainted when the healer confirmed it. Then all he could do was worry, he agonized for months over the target that would be on her back as our child.”

“Tamlin turned white as a sheet,” Lyra said, “then he also worried about who would go after Alder.” 

Both women laughed, their hands still clasped together.

“Males are so faint hearted,” Feyre said, “and needlessly overprotective.”

“I don’t think Tamlin ever looked at me when I was delivering. The first time his eyes wouldn’t leave the floor,” Lyra said, “then when he had to cut the umbilical cord, Alys had to catch him.”

“Nesta held Rhysand up and Mor had to steady his hand,” Feyre said. 

“What of the flying? I don’t know if I could ever handle it,” Lyra said, “at the Dawn Court I couldn’t stand to watch the flying lessons.”

“Rhysand was a nervous wreck,” Feyre said, “I was not, Azriel taught me so I trusted him to teach Isra. Yet, the first time we stood on the roof on the day with the thickest snow and both Azriel and Mor waiting on the floor, Rhysand wouldn’t let her go. Cassian had to be the one to throw her in the air. Yet, when it was Cassian’s turn to throw Calder in the air he was just as paranoid as Rhysand. Eventually it was Nesta who did it after an hour of being up there. What of your children? Tamlin can manipulate wind can’t he? And the shapeshifting?”

“They still struggle with the shapeshifting,” Lyra said, “Eulalia is the only one who grasped it quickly.The wind on the other hand, they’ve had talent for it since they were children. The first time Alder used it was by accident. He sneezed and sent himself flying into a rose bush. Thankfully the thorns had just been trimmed that day, but since then Tamlin has had them trimmed nearly everyday.”

Feyre couldn’t help but giggle at the idea of a small Alder sneezing then disappearing into a bush with a frantic Tamlin and Lyra searching for him. It took her a moment to realize it was a memory, Lyra’s memory. One she had allowed Feyre to see. 

“We should do this more often, Lyra. Just you and me, forget about our mates and our courts. As friends,” Feyre said, squeezing her hand softly. 

“Do not tempt me, I will randomly winnow to your room when I’m bored,” Lyra warned with a mischievous smile. 

“As will I,” Feyre said. Lyra grabbed a long, thin glass and holding it in the air. 

“To new friendships,” Lyra announced to the room.

“To many years of friendship,” Feyre announced. They clinked their glasses together and down the drinks in one swing.

***

Her stomach was in knots. How was she going to bring up what she saw to the High Lord? Would he tell Rhysand? Would that extend their stay?  _ Gods I hope not _ . Eden’s head was spinning. Why her? Why her, of all the people in this court, did Leonide decide to confide in? He wouldn’t tell her about Eulalia, even when she asked him, but he dragged into the woods to show her  _ that _ . 

She needed to tell Tamlin, but she’d find Florian first. Yes, Florian. She could get Florian to tell Tamlin. 

“Eden!” Lucien’s voice made her look up. It had been months since she had seen him, the last time he was here so was her mother so that meant she never left her room nor was she letting anyone in. 

But behind Lucien came Calder. 

Eden scowled. He angered her to no end. Even if his scent made her drool and she wanted nothing more than to drown it. To wrap herself in it and-  _ stop it _ . The smug look on his face helped her suffocate the voice inside her urging her closer to him. 

“What? Not happy to see me?” He said with a pout. If this wasn't a delicate diplomatic visit she would’ve already swung at him. 

“Just disappointed a naga didn’t tear you to ribbons,” she snapped. He tipped his head back and laughed for a moment. Behind him she could see Alder smirking as he nudged Tamlin with his elbow who had sighed. 

“A naga wishes it could best me,” he said with a wolfish grin. Eden couldn’t deny the sheer power that he emitted with his nine siphons, all silver in color. Lucien rolled his eyes, leaning against his horse with his arms crossed against his chest.

“A water wraith could outsmart you,” she countered. 

“Oh really? I suppose you too could take on a naga,” he snapped. Rhysand looked too invested in their petty squabble.

“I’m not stupid enough to get tangled up with one, unlike you.” Out of the corner of her eyes Eden could see another winged male land, more likely than not General Cassian. But at this moment with Calder’s silver eyes staring at her and his lips upturned into a smirk, she couldn’t careless.

“There’s my youngling,” his voice was far too cheery for his title. Cassian walked over and clapped his son on the back. 

“Can’t handle a little teasing, Eden?” He questioned making her snarl and step forward. Florian quickly came out of nowhere, one arm around her shoulders and his other hand gripping her arm. 

“Oh c’mon Eden, spare our new friend over here,” Florian playfully begged, “rip him apart another time.” Florian was seemingly joking to everyone else, but she could feel how tense he was next to her. 

“No one from the Night Court is or ever will be a friend of mine,” she snarled, shoving Florian off her and storming away. She heard Calder’s growl, heard Tamlin’s weak apology. 

“Eden,” Florian whined, “why do you have to be so mean.”

“Eden,” Alder’s deep voice called after her, but she didn’t stop. 

She couldn’t stop, not until the scent of dark berries, midnight jasmine, and amber was gone. 

Dinner was unavoidable. Tamlin only ever had one rule, everyone came to dinner. So Eden did, as much as she wanted to stay in her room instead, she still showed up and took her seat. Lyra and Feyre were at the head of the table. Tamlin was to her left and Lucien to her right. Eden was between Lucien and Florian, pretty smart to keep her far from Calder. 

It was a joyous dinner, much more bright and open than the previous night. Eden wanted to listen to whatever Florian was telling her, but the looks Calder and Meissa were sending each other made her want to leap across the table and throttle them. She couldn’t explain the anger burning in her veins. 

“Eden,” Lyra said, “you should’ve invited Leonide to dinner.”

“He’s busy.” It wasn’t untrue, but she wasn’t willing to tell her what Leonide had shown her. 

“So, Feyre,” Lucien said, catching her tense shoulders, “what is like being back? Deja vu minus the masks?”

“It’s surprisingly...nice,” Feyre said, sharing a knowing glance with Lyra. 

Dinner carried on with more small talk that Eden couldn’t bother to listen to. Not when the scent of dark berries and midnight jasmine wouldn’t leave her alone, yet he didn’t look nearly as bothered with her scent as she did with his. Instead, he buried his nose into Meissa’s neck and inhaled. Eden scowled, that bastard was drowing it out with her. Eden was half tempted to do it to Florian, but he’d probably enjoy it. 

The slamming of the front doors made the table go silent. Tamlin slowly rose, but Leonide’s familiar scent of mahogany and pine made Eden shoot out of her seat. She ran out of the dining room towards the front door. 

A part of her wished that she had let Tamlin leave first. 

She swallowed. There was so much blood...too much blood. Her hands trembled as she stepped forward, avoiding looking at the dark claw marks in his side as blood dripped onto the floor. By the mother, there was blood everywhere. 

“Eden,” he choked out as her small arm slipped around his waist and wrapped his arm around his shoulder to help him stand.  _ Don’t think about the blood. Don’t look at the blood.  _ But she could still smell the metallic scent as it stained her clothes, as slick warmth coated her cheek. He was bleeding too much, he needed to get to the infirmary, but Eden’s eyes screwed shut. Her breath was trapped in her chest. 

_ Her hands were coated in blood, her back. It was in her mouth choking her _ . 

“Shit!” Calder’s voice brought her back. Leonide had gone slack, falling to the floor and if it wasn’t for Calder catching him he would've dragged her down too.

The next moments were like the jagged pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit, coming in fragments. 

Eulalia was crying, her hands cupping Leonides cheeks. 

Tamlin was yelling at them to get him to infirmary. 

Alder taking her place. 

And her hands were stained with blood.

_ There was still so much blood _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop. This chapter went from fluffy girl's day to hell in a handbasket real quick didn't it.


	5. The Scars They Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I wrote this in between studying. Sorry for the slow update this week it was exam week and my professors really said no mercy. I hope you like this chapter.

_ “Leonideeeee!” Eden whined. Her small body was curled into the sheets when Leonide walked into the room looking exacerbated. He eyed her expectantly. “Mama didn’t want to check for monsters.”  _

_ “There’s no monsters,” he said as he tilted his head to the right. She whimpered and when he looked back up tears were pooling in her eyes. He sat on the bed, one of his hands undoing the braid their mother didn’t bother to notice. “I promise there’s no monsters under the bed. I scared them off as you bathed.” _

_ “Promise?” Her voice was so small, so quiet.  _

_ “Would I ever break a promise?” He asked.  _

_ “No.” She shook her head.  _

_ “Well then there you go,” he said, running his hand through her hair. “Sleep Eden. I’ll protect you from the monsters.” _

Her hands were still covered in blood. Still trembling. Leonide,  _ oh gods he was- was he- no he can’t be.  _

“Eden,” Florian’s voice was hard, all of its usual ariness and fun gone. His hand gripped her arm and pulled her outside. Her knees wobbled as he sat her down. The night breeze was brushing her cheeks as she tilted her head up to look at the stars. To look at anything but the blood she could still feel on her hands.

_ “Why does she hate me so much?” Eden whispered. Leonide’s hand stopped spreading the salve over her back. _

_ “I-” _

_ “What was my crime? Being born?” _

_ “No.” He said firmly, “you are more special than she realizes.” _

_ “I love you, Leo,” she mumbled.  _

_ “I love you too,” he whispered, “I’m sorry I can’t do more.” _

_ “You do more than you give yourself credit for.” _

“...en….Eden…” Florian. Florian’s voice was calling her but it sounded so far away. Her eyes slowly focused on him. The others were running past her, the Illyrians shooting into the air. The gusts of wind that came from their powerful wings tousled her hair. But she still  _ couldn’t breathe _ . And she was still covered in  _ blood.  _

_ She couldn’t stop screaming. Strangled cries echoed through the clearing at its claws dug into her back.  _

_ Blood was pooling under her, crawling up her throat until she was choking on it.  _

“Eden.” His voice was even, calm as he said her name. It was the only voice that was clear against the thoughts raging in her head. 

His hands were warm against her cold wrists as he pulled her hands from where they had been tugging on her hair. Eden wanted to disappear, she wanted to sink into the ground until she was one with concrete. She felt like she wasn’t really there. Her body was there, curled within itself, but her soul was so far away struggling to stay connected to her flesh and bones. But Calder’s touch kept her from floating away. She hated him, she wanted nothing more for there to be a stable accident where he ended up in the path of fleeing horses. He was an arrogant, savage, brute Illyrian. There was no decorum about him. The blood in his veins was of death and power, the makings of the perfectly vicious soldiers. 

Yet, when one of his hands moved to wipe her cheeks she found herself leaning into his touch and taking a deep breath. The scent of dark berries and lavender bringing relief. 

“That’s it Eden,” he whispered, “deep breaths.”

His other hand cupped her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw as she took deep breaths. With each exchange of air she felt herself become more aware of her surroundings. Of the way he was holding her. She wanted to push him away from her, instead her shaky hand rose to hold his wrist. Calder was so much warmer than she was. 

Then she looked at his face. His expression was a mix of emotions. Confusion. Worry. Anger. Annoyance. She wondered whether any of the last two were directed at her. She thought otherwise when Meissa snapped at her, the words falling mute anyways, and Calder growled loudly at her. His expression softened when he looked back at her and it made her heart flutter. 

“Did you hear that?” Florian’s voice made Calder look up and his thumb stop. 

“Mother,” Calder said, quickly making Eden stand as he gently pushed her into awaiting arms. 

“Go,” Nesta’s voice made her look up at the woman’s hard expression. The only indication that Calder was gone was the gust of wind. 

Feyra had helped Nesta drag Eden into a bathroom. It was one she didn’t recognize, one of the guest bathrooms. Faelights lit up the bathroom and for the first time since rushing out of her seat at dinner, Eden got a good look at herself in the mirror. 

To say she was covered in blood was an understatement. There was blood staining the entire front of her shirt, in no way was it salvageable. Blood was beginning to crust on her neck and cheek. Both of her hands were coated, her right hand which had been pressed against Leonide’s injured side was covered up to her elbow. 

All the calmness Calder had managed to help her achieve was gone. She was feeling far away again as her breath was caught in her throat. 

She vaguely felt Feyre and Nesta each grabbing a hand and scrubbing away the blood. The sink water was dark after it passed through her hands. 

_ Stained gauze in buckets. The white cloth under her was soaked to nearly the edges. The metallic scent permeated her senses.  _

The light was dimming. The room was tilting. Feyre cried out her name but Eden couldn’t stop herself from falling forward. 

***

Calder roared. He couldn’t find it even as he heard it all around him, there was nothing he could use to pin it down. No scent, no heartbeat, and no appearance. All he could do was pull Florian out of the way whenever his instincts screamed at him. Florian had long gone inside, leaving Calder to be mocked by whatever being had torn Leonide’s side to ribbons. 

“Calder,” Cassian’s voice was calm, authoritative in nature. He looked up at his father. Lucien was limping towards Rosehall with Rhysand’s help. Alder was lingering outside behind Cassian. 

“I-I can’t find it, I can hear it, but I can’t-”

“Let’s go inside,” Cassian said gently. He cupped his son’s cheek. “Look at you, you’re exhausted.”

Cassian was right, Calder and Florian had been outside for the better part of an hour. Despite that, the light in the infirmary window was still bright. He could see Alys in there and nothing more. When Calder agreed to go inside, Alder led the way. 

The first sitting room was occupied with his cousins. Each was asleep on a couch. Meissa was lounging in the only love seat. Cassian excused himself, telling Calder he needed to see Nesta. With emotions still running high and no successful end to the hunt, Calder knew his parents wouldn’t be leaving each other’s side for the rest of the trip. 

“Done being the High Lord’s lapdog?” Meissa mocked. Lapdog.  _ Lapdog _ . That’s all she ever saw him as, if not his uncle’s than now Tamlin’s. “Growl at me again, and I’ll nail your balls to my threshold.”

“Try having some empathy,” Calder snarled. Meissa rolled her eyes and scoffed. 

“I’m going to bed,” she said as she stood. When she passed Calder she pushed him into the wall and scowled, “remember who you belong to, little Calder.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” he snapped. 

“I better not see you with her.” Something deep within Calder stilled. He should be more bothered by the way Meissa was treating him, by the fact that she was disrespecting and treating him like he was a thing to be owned instead of a person. But it was the fact that she was threatening Eden that made fury bleed into his veins. 

“Would you stop dilly dallying and hurry the fuck up?!” Florian’s voice made her back away, her glare an echo of what she said as she walked off. 

“I had to check for myself.” Only then did Calder realize that Alder had slipped outside again. 

“Well come on,” Florian urged. Alder followed his younger brother without another word. Curiosity melted away his anger and Calder found himself following the two Spring Court Faes to a room on the third floor. It’s double doors were both open and Tamlin was leaning against one side of the door frame. 

Inside was Eden. She was facing the lit fireplace, her eyes trained on the dancing of the flame. Lyra sat in front of her, one of Eden’s hands in her grasp as she massaged cream into it. Her hands must be so dry after scrubbing the blood off. Calder had the urge to kneel down next to Lyra to do her other hand, but instead he leaned against the doorframe like Tamlin. There was a blush colored blanket wrapped around her shoulders which Florian kept adjusting every few minutes.

“He’s going to be okay,” Lyra was whispering, “we stitched him up and called for a healer, she’s with him now. But she did say he’ll be okay.”

“Whatever it was, we chased it to the tunnels,” Alder assured her, “Rhysand sealed the only opening there was. It won’t be coming back.”

“Eden,” Florian’s voice was the only one who made her head turn. Calder didn’t miss the way one of his hands never left he back, “you’re here, with us. I promise you’re okay. And I never break a promise right?”

“Right,” she whispered. Her voice was so quiet, so unlike what Calder was used to it being. 

“And as your best friends, I promise to throw Alder in it’s way as we escape,” Florian said, his airy voice returning. 

“Dickhead,” Alder grumbled. 

“Eden,” Lyra’s voice cooed, “rest, darling.”

“Stay?” 

“Of course.” Eden laid with her head on Lyra’s lap and one of her hands clutching Florian’s. Alder stood and grabbed her comforter, draping it over the two younger Fae. 

“Sleep well, Eden,” Alder whispered, brushing past Tamlin and Calder. 

He wanted to stay, wanted to lay on her other side and wait until her breathing evened. But he still found himself turning around, going towards the room he was sharing with Meissa. 

***

The fire had long been put out, yet Feyre could still see Lyra’s hand gently running her fingers through Eden’s brown hair. The soft snoring of Florian next to her was the only sound in the room until the wood creaked under Feyre’s footfalls. Lyra never looked up. Feyre rested her hand on the Dawn Fae’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.  _ I am here for you. We’re friends.  _

“How is she?” Fayre whispered, sitting next to Lyra. 

“Took a while for her to actually fall asleep,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. 

_ Would you prefer we talk this way as to not wake her? _ Feyre asked. Lyra tensed for a moment but relaxed. The black claws of Feyre’s power eased into the golden warmth that was Lyra’s. Comfort permeated in all senses of the word in the other Fae’s mind. And peace. She can see why Tamlin was so relaxed around her if this was what he felt down the bond. 

_ Yes. _

_ Where are the others?  _

_ I sent Tamlin to bed. He looked ready to double over yet wouldn’t leave his place by the door,  _ Lyra smiled sadly,  _ He was reluctant to leave but I was able to convince him. Alder is in Eden’s bed, he had a back injury in the past and sleeping on the floor will only cause him pain.  _ Feyre hadn’t even noticed the male curled into the sheets until Lyra pointed him out.  _ Eulalia is still with Leonide. She refuses to leave his side, but she did come to see Eden to update her. After Eulalia’s visit she was able to finally sleep peacefully.  _

Feyre couldn’t shake the emotion Lyra was accidentally sending towards her. Pain, only pain a parent can feel at seeing their child hurting. She wrapped an arm around Lyra and rested her other hand over Lyra’s. 

_ I understand,  _ Feyre assured her _ After Isra’s Blood Rite she was shaken. She had to spill blood to survive and no matter how much we assured her of this, she would not forgive herself.  _

_ I...they’re children,  _ Lyra whimpered _ , I know I didn’t bring her into this world and there is nothing that ties her to Tamlin and I but….Eden is just as much our child as Florian or Alder or Eulalia. I can’t stand seeing any of them this way and it pains me that it is seemingly always Eden. I wish….I wish she would’ve come here so much earlier.  _

Images were shown to her, memories of Eden when she was young. As a young girl with the brightest smile Feyre had ever seen and her hair flowing in the wind. When she was a little older, pushing Florian into the lake Feyre had once loved. All the children curled up on the floor with sleepy eyes as Tamlin animatedly told them a story, one Feyre recognized from Rhysand telling Emery and Isra the same tale. 

Then she thought of Rhysand’s mother. The woman who took in both Azriel and Cassian. Lyra reminded her from the memories shared and stories told. Admittedly, Lyra was softer, more lenient. But the kindness, her comfort felt so similar. 

_ But she’s here now,  _ Feyre assured her, gently squeezing her arm,  _ you were there for her when she needed you most. You’re still here. _

_ And I always will be. _ It was firm, resolved. 

Florian’s groan made them stop and stare. The male yawned and sat up, he lazily smiled at them as he stood. He carefully stepped over Eden, whispering about going to get water. 

_ Go back to sleep, Feyre, _ Lyra said softly,  _ you look tired. _

_ I’ll stay here with you a little longer _ . 

***

The fae lights flickered as Florian walked down the dark halls. He stumbled a bit on the stairs, cursing. He had begged his father to brighten the lights but both his siblings groaned, they had hated light leaking into their room as they slept. So stumbling it was. The route to the kitchen was ingrained in his mind though, he could make with his eyes closed so the dark was no longer a challenge. Alys had caught him sneaking honey pastries more times than he’d like to admit. 

He expected to be alone but there was another figure in the kitchen. The bare back of a very familiar Illyrian was facing him as he peaked into a cupboard. The bruises on his shoulder were still fresh as were the scratches down Florian’s back. The memories of pleasure and the squirming Illyrian made him smile. Oh, if only he wasn’t so exhausted then maybe he’d have the stamina to have him crying out his name again. 

The only difference this time was the wings. They had been hidden for the entire visit, but down they were relaxed and nearly grazing the floor.

“I thought Illyrian wings were never meant to drag on the ground,” Florian said, voice scratchy and deep from sleep. 

Emery jumped in surprise, his hand flying to his chest as the wings disappeared. Shame, Florian wanted to drag his fingers down the soft membrane. “You scared the shit out of me,” Emery hissed, a smile betraying his tone. 

“Apologies,” Florian yawned, grabbing two glasses, “water?”

“Yes,” Emery said. Florian poured both glasses then sat on the table in the middle of the kitchen usually used to prepare the food and handed one to Emery. Their fingers brushed as he passed the glass, making Emery blush. How ironic, Florian thought, that he was blushing after their intimate moment that afternoon. 

“Is Eden alright?” Emery asked, his eyebrows knit in concern. Florian sighed.

“She’ll be better tomorrow, not quite alright but better. She can’t stand the sight of blood,” Florian said. He looked down at his glass and repeated, “She’ll be alright soon.” He just couldn’t tell if he was still answering Emery’s question or trying to reassure himself. 

“I….I was worried about you,” Emery admitted, “when Alder said you and Calder had found it, I couldn’t stop thinking what if it hurt you too. I….”

“I was worried too,” Florian mumbled, “My first thought was Eden but once Calder got her to calm down I...I worried about it hurting you too.”

They were silent. Both wanted to say more, but neither found the words. Instead they shared understanding glances. It was only one afternoon, Florian snapped at himself, why was he so attached already? 

“What is it with those two anyways?” Emery asked.

“I have a feeling I know but if I say it Eden will maim me,” Florian joked. Emery stared at him then his eyes widened. 

“No, you don’t think,” Emery said then suppressed a laugh.

“It would explain Eden’s death grip on my thigh at dinner as she stared at Meissa,” Florian said, “but who am I to judge? Ah young love, so refreshing isn’t it?”

“If you’re right I think...I think Calder would be happy,” Emery said, “he’s always wanted to find his mate and he’s always hoped he wouldn’t have to wait 500 years like our fathers.”

“To find one’s mate so young is a blessing,” Florian mumbled, “one Eden deserves, even if she’d rather jump rope with his entrails than be civil.”

“The best love stories always begin with intense hatred, don’t you think?” Emery said, “Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, for one.”

“Pride and Prejudice?”

“You know it? So many High Fae in Velaris won’t read it simply because it is a human author but it is incredible,” Emery gushed. 

“My father brought it for me once,” Florian hummed, “I read it in a day.”

“Although I can’t imagine Calder being much of a Mr. Darcy.” Both Florian and Emery laugh softly.

“I think there’s something to be said about loving a person from the moment you meet,” Florian mumbled, “Achilles and Patroclus, ever since my mother told me that human story I...I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better one.”

“I don’t know that one,” Emery frowned, “tell it to me.”

“Very well then,” Florian said, turning towards Emery as he jumped onto the table as well, “the story begins with Patroclus, who was exiled from his own kingdom to Achilles’s…”

***

Her head hurt and it was hard to see through her puffy eyes. No one mentioned them, which she was grateful for. Although Nesta and Calder did stare at her all throughout breakfast which made her avert her eyes to study every corner of the room. Eden wanted to go back to sleep but she couldn’t let herself crawl back under the sheets. No, she’d be strong in front of them. Once they left she’d go back to sleep until she felt better. Until she stopped feeling like her hands were still coated in blood. 

More interesting than her own emotions was the longing stares Emery kept directing towards Florian, who played them off with sly smiles. Oh, she was definitely going to ask about that once they left. Just yesterday morning Emery was still shyly glancing at an unfazed Florian. She wonders if whatever happened between them had to do with the suspiciously Fae shaped dent in the garden. When she gave Florian a questioning glance, he shot her the same look he did when he had bedded someone. His lips would curl on the left side of his face and his eyes would narrow like a cat, eyebrows drawn down seductively. Oh.  _ Oh.  _

“So it’s decided,” Tamlin sighed. “Rhysand you will stay to continue this and your family will leave.”

“Father we-” Emery protested. 

“Emery,” Rhysand’s voice was tense, more authoritative than Eden had heard him the entire time he had been there. It was then that she was reminded that despite his warm smiles and relaxed demeanor, he was still the most powerful High Lord. One flick of his wrist and they could all be turned to red mist. “Please, do not argue with me on this.”

“Let me stay, please,” Emery’s voice was barely above a whisper. Florian was suspiciously resting his forehead on his intertwined fingers. Eden rested her hand on his thigh and Florian bumped her knee with his own. It was something they had always done as kids to comfort each other, it was usually the reason why they always sat together at meal times. 

“I am glad you enjoyed your time here, Emery, but you can not stay,” Tamlin said, which Rhysand gave him a grateful glance for. “I will be sending my own children to the countryside.”

“Fuck,” Florian whined. 

The Night Court was leaving. They were  _ leaving _ . This was all Eden had wanted since they had arrived. All she had desired was for her routine to stay uninterrupted and once she was getting that, part of her didn’t want them to go. When she looked up and her eyes met Calders, she committed them to memory. As much as she still despised, she was grateful that he had calmed her. Despite his brisk nature, he was a good male. He gave her a subtle nod and she returned it with her own slow nod. 

One breakfast had finished and everyone had gone their own way, Eden wandered around the halls. She knows she should go see Leonide. He was probably upset she hadn’t, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until her hands stopped shaking when his name was mentioned. Tomorrow. She’d go see him tomorrow she decided. 

In her decision, she didn’t notice she bumped into someone. They grasped her arms to steady her. Eden opened her mouth to speak but her jaw clamped shut when her eyes met the swirling grey that belonged to Nesta.

“Nesta-”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Nesta cut in. 

“Well we’ve seemed to have found each other,” she said. 

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” she said, looping one arm around Eden’s and walking towards what she can only assume was the guest room she had been using. 

“I’m fine,” Eden said through gritted teeth. 

“Really? Don’t think I didn’t notice you asking Florian to pour you wine at breakfast. Never once have you asked his heavy hand to pour for you, it has always been Tamlin,” Nesta said. 

“Tamlin was talking,” she snapped. So what she had asked Florian knowing he’d fill her glass as if he was serving himself? Was she not allowed one of his pours after her night?

“Eden,” the other woman sighed, “you do not have to pretend to be okay. 

“I am not pretending,” she snarled. Eden must have a death wish to be snarling at the Lord of Bloodshed’s pregnant mate when he could hear her. 

“Eden-”

“I’m fine,” she hissed, yanking her arm away roughly. Nesta didn’t react, simply lifted her chin higher and glared. Eden scowled and walked past her. Damn Night Court. 

The goodbyes weren’t supposed to be hard. There was supposed to still be animosity between the two courts as there had always been. But as Eden stood in the same place she had when the Night Court arrived she realized she was the only one who held any disdain for their visitors. 

Emery and Florian were deep in conversation. She saw Florian hand Emery two books that looked suspiciously like his versions of  _ The Odyssey  _ and  _ The Iliad _ . It was the ones which had all of Florian’s little notes in the margins and honey stains. He didn’t even let her take them to her room, yet he was giving them to Emery to take to an entirely different court with no promise of return. Interesting. 

Both sets of High Lords and Ladies were conversing. Feyre and Lyra embraced for a long moment. Rhysand unexpectedly clapped Tamlin on the back, which made even him look shocked. A few feet from them Cassian and Nesta were talking to Lucien as he nodded along, he was going to the Day Court from there so they were probably giving him a run down of what needed to be done in his time there. Until Cassian pulled Lucien into a headlock, making the smaller male yell at him until Nesta wacked Cassian’s arm despite her own laughter. 

Closer to her were Isra and Meissa who stood silently glaring at each other. Eulalia was speaking, she had come down to say goodbye. After a moment, Isra hugged her tightly, rubbing her back as her shoulders shook. Eden should be comforting her, but she found herself rooted to her spot. 

“Eden,” Calder’s deep voice called her as he walked over until he was only a few feet from her. He had been much closer to her last night, she could still feel his calloused hands on her skin, but now they did not move closer. She did not say his name back, only stare. The look in his eyes was indescribable. Eden was too tired to try and decipher it, exhaustion gathering between her shoulder blades. She swallowed the words that were stuck on her tongue. It was the right thing to apologize for being so harsh and thank him for his help. Eden said nothing, only met his powerful gaze. 

His silver eyes were the same as his mother’s. But where Nesta’s eyes showed only a glimpse of the power she had controlled, Calder’s were swirling with untapped power. Eden wondered just why he had so many siphons, two more than his father. A few looked like if he even so much as let out a sliver of power they would shatter. 

Yet all she could manage was to meet his powerful eye with her own tired gaze. Something in them shifted, only for a moment, then they went back to their indescribably normality. 

“You’re not half as bad as I thought,” he finally said. She snorted softly and glanced down for a moment. 

“That’s too bad,” she replied, “since you’re worse than what I initially thought.”

Calder laughed softly, his tongue darting out to swipe his upper lip as he did. Eden managed a low laugh of her own. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Eden,” he said. 

“Shame,” she mumbled, “that you’re leaving before I can take you down in a match.”

“There’s still plenty of time for that,” he said, “I’ll remind you of it next time we meet.”

“Next time,” she agreed. 

She watched him walk back to his family, the only one missing for them to winnow. Meissa was scowling at her, so maybe she wasn’t the only one with animosity left. Despite that she could only look at Calder. Even as Meissa wrapped herself and her wings around him, his gaze never left hers. 

Eden realized she didn’t want him to leave. She wondered if he longed to stay as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone expect Florian and Emery? 
> 
> Also, I had to throw in an Achilles and Patroclus reference since I just finished reading The Song of Achilles. I'm still recovering from the end, even if I knew the end I was still sobbing when I finished. And a Pride & Prejudice reference since it is the quintessential enemies to lovers story.


	6. The Pain Visits Almost Nightly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I stay up until 3:40 am writing this instead of studying for my midterm? Yes  
> Was it worth it? Idk you tell me

The glass vase shattered upon impact with the wall. Iovita simply raised her eyebrows and continued to inspect her nails. Dealing with him was getting...tedious. He was like a child throwing yet another tantrum. But she had no other choice, no one else would risk what he was. 

“So it attacked the wrong sibling? What of it?” She questioned casually despite her blood simmering under her tan skin. 

“What of it?” He snarled widely, his dark red hair flying around, “Now they’ve become harder to track. All of them. Those bastards.”

“But not impossible,” Iovita said, “find a servant or sentinel, they won’t be nearly as guarded. Sift through the town’s people’s minds. Secrets are never well kept there.”

“Why should I be wasting my time on hunting a lesser fae,” he snarled, his hand wrapping around her throat. 

“Oh, young one. You will learn one day to see the bigger picture. That lesser fae will open us up not only to the Spring Court, but to the Night and Day Courts,” Iovita drawled.

“How can you be certain?”

“The bond is far too obvious to ignore,” she smirked. 

***

_ Warm, it was warm. Eden smiled as she ran after Florian as Eulalia chased them with a worm in her hand. Florian shrieked and sprinted away from his twin. Both children used the wind to carry them farther than Eden could ever hope to run. She shifted, her back was starting to tighten with the added pressure.  _

_ “Did they leave you behind again, Eden?” Alder asked softly. Eden glanced up at the male as he walked over. Following him was the High Lord. Eden gulped and quickly looked down. Her mother had scolded her countless times about never looking at him in the eyes.  _

_ “Eden,” Tamlin said softly, “you know you can look at me, your mother is wrong.” She shyly glanced up at him, her cheeks heating as her mother’s voice echoed in her mind.  _

_ “Florian and Eulalia are too far, I’m going after them,” Alder sighed, “do not be afraid to knock some sense into them Eden.” _

_ “I won’t next time!” She said eagerly, making both males chuckled. Again her back arched, making her curl into herself.  _

_ “Are they hurting again?” Tamlin asked. She looked down and nodded. “Let me free them for you.” _

_ “ N-No, M-Mama will get u-upset,” she stammered, taking a few steps back.  _

_ “Eden,” his voice was hard, serious, “she should not be doing this to you. Keeping them bound for bound long is not healthy. Let me free them, just for a little while.” _

_ “....Only a little while,” she whispered.  _

_ “Then we’ll bound them again before you go back,” he assured her, but the sorrow and anger in his eyes told her he loathed the idea.  _

_ “....Okay,” she mumbled, standing still as Tamlin kneeled behind her.  _

_ His hands were soft, gently as he undid the buttons on the back of her shirt. The claw that slipped through was cold, but she didn’t move as it curled around the leather bound that wrapped around her chest to her back and tugged. It snapped, falling onto the grass below. His hands were careful as he helped her adjust.  _

_ With a relieved sigh, Eden spread out her wings as much as she could. They were a dark grey rather than the brilliant ebony she had seen in paintings. One of her wings wouldn’t extend all the way and the other almost always dragged on the floor, but she yelled excitedly as they flapped pathetically anyways. When she turned back to look at Tamlin his expression was a mix of pain and assurance.  _

_ “Her wings are out! Yay!” Florian screeched excited, colliding with Eden as he hugged her.  _

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she opened her eyes. Eden could never shake the habit of sleeping on her stomach. Some days she could close her eyes and feel the flex of her muscles needing to stretch wings that had become scars. 

That day had been a good one where her mother didn’t even notice she went home with her wings free. Leonide had to help her scrub the mud off them and he had massaged them, stretching and closing them as she sat on the floor. His face was always so worried when he touched parts of her wings that were meant to be sensitive only for them to barely tickle. But he always assured her they were fixable. One day she would fly. What a fool she had been. 

Eden turned to lay on her back, staring at the plain ceiling of her room in the countryside house. It wasn’t nearly as big as Rosehall, but it was still a decent size. There were only seven rooms in the countryside house; really leaving only one guest room since the other was Lucien’s unofficial room. Not that many people went to visit them there. The country house was a secret for a reason. It had many more wards than Rosehall. Tamlin offhandedly had mentioned that it was Rhysand who put them in, so she didn’t doubt it was the same wards that guarded the Night Court’s not so secret city of Velaris. 

Her room here wasn’t as extravagant as the Rosehall room. There were no silks or pale pink theme, it was a simple mint colored room with a few furnishings. No fireplace. But all the rooms were fairly simple. 

But she was feeling stuffy. Dreams of those days always did. With no fireplace to stare into, she slipped out of bed and headed down the stairs towards the front door. The sitting room by the door still held evidence of Eulalia and Florian’s intense game of cards; Eulalia had won and cuddled into Leonide’s side. Leonide. Eden almost forgot he had come along and was sharing a room with Eulalia. She smiled softly, they were good for each other. When Leonide didn’t have much to say, Eulalia did. If she was starting to get overwhelmed with all the awaiting High Lady responsibilities, Leonide was there to ground her. They’d be good for the Spring Court. 

Outside was more familiar to her. After she moved in with Tamlin and Lyra they had packed up and gone to the country house for months. Lyra told her it was so she could heal without peeking eyes. Florian and her had a routine. He’d wait for her to wake up, help her change her bandages, put more salve on, eat in the room, and then carry her outside. They would sit outside until long after sunset. Eden liked being in the garden and Florian was happy to see her relaxed. She had had enough time laying in bed. 

Eden sat down and breathed in. She tilted her head back and let out the air in her lungs. The chill of the wind was biting at her bare legs and sleeves of her nightgown were pulled over her hands as she rested them on the cold stone stairs. Her eyes were on the stars. She had always stared at them for comfort, reaching hand to try and grasp them. A soft smile graced her face as she traced the outlines of constellations with her fingers. 

***

Fuck, it was hot. It was the dead of winter in Illyria but Calder felt suffocated by the body on top of him. His skin was sticky, at some point it was slick with sweat. There was bitter taste in his mouth and he wanted to gag. The night before had been filled with rough, hateful sex. Meissa and him had fought  _ again _ . Instead of using their words, Meissa had decided angry sex was the remedy. But Calder didn’t feel like it resolved anything. It only distracted them for a few hours and reminded him why he stayed time and time again. He loved her, he was sure of this. He would’ve never asked her out, risked the wrath of the Illyrian males who were eyeing her if he didn’t. He wouldn’t have moved to Illyria full time. 

The Meissa sleeping on him wasn’t the same one he fell in love with. Maybe she was always like this and he was too blind to see. Eden. He had never seen so clearly since they met. Every ounce of his soul screamed at him to fight to stay, but he still gave in when Meissa grabbed his wrist. If she hadn’t, he was sure he would’ve lunged out of his Aunt’s range. Maybe if he had gone alone things would be different. He doubted it, they couldn’t be in the same room without barking insults at each other. But part of him liked that, he liked the back and forth they had. Judging by her smirk, she did too. 

He slipped out from underneath Meissa. Water. A glass of water would clear his mind and help the dryness in his throat. He would mourn the sex if he ever did break up with her though. But the idea of sex with his mate, whoever they were, made him shudder with pleasure as he pulled a pair of loose pants on. 

The house he shared with Emery and Isra was quiet. He winced, there was no way his cousins didn’t hear him. Isra wasn’t shy when she brought someone to her bed, but Emery was mortified any time he so much as squeaked. Calder knew he was loud and Meissa was probably loud to make a point. To whom she was making it to he didn’t know, unless a certain Fae in the Spring Court had extraordinary hearing. 

“Calder,” A scratchy voice made him curse loudly and nearly drop his glass of water. 

“By the mother,” he gasped, his hand over his heart, “you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry.” Emery’s voice was dejected. Normally he would’ve laughed hard enough to wake up Isra. But he didn’t and that worried Calder. 

“You good?” He asked, waking over and sitting next to him on the couch. Peering over his shoulder, Calder caught sight of a paper with elegant handwriting. 

_ I long for another afternoon together. As soon as I return to Rosehall I swear I will send for you. Until the next time I can hear you cry out my name.  _

_ Yours handsomely, _

_ Florian _

Calder snorted. Of course Florian would sign a letter that way. But Emery wasn’t nearly as amused. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Calder wondered how long he had sat out there crying. 

“It’s from Florian,” he rasped. 

“I see that,” Calder said. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s…No,” he whimpered, “I…I think I have feelings for him. Strong ones.”

“Emery,” Calder whispered, ruffling his hair gently.

“I-I need to tell them I like men,” he said. Calder knew they’d understand, his uncle and aunt would never judge Emery for this. They accepted Mor with no hesitation. But he understood Emery’s fear, just because Calder could see that they wouldn’t be angered doesn’t take away from Emery having to divulge something he’s kept secret for so many years. It was alright to be afraid, but Calder wouldn’t let it hold Emery back from pursuing Florian. 

“We can go in the morning,” Calder said, “No matter what they say, I will always be by your side, cousin.”

“No,” Emery shook his head and stood, “I-I need to go now. I can’t sleep, can’t sit still until I do.”

“Okay,” Calder said, “do you want me to go?”

“This is something I need to do alone.” Calder stood and hugged his younger cousin tightly. Emery’s fingers gripped Calder’s shoulder. 

“Do not be afraid,” Calder said firmly when he let go. Emery nodded, glancing down at the letter as he winnowed away. 

Calder stared at the empty living room and decided a bath would serve him well. It would relax his tense muscles and clear him of the stickiness that still coated his skin. The feeling of disgust returned. Creeping to the bathroom, he filled the tub with warm water and but a few drops of different oils until it smelled like tulips,  _ fucking tulips _ . He scowled but stepped into the tub anyways. He easily sank into the water. A groan left his lips as he sat back. Calder had loved baths as a child, it was an exciting thing to get a bath. His house only ever had showers so baths were exclusively for when he went to Uncle Rhys’s and Aunt Fey’s house. He breathed in, the scent forever ingrained in his mind. It had been a few weeks since he had last seen her but she still clouded his thoughts. Damn Spring female 

***

A rustling caught her attention. There wasn’t supposed to be any animals within the wards. They had also come without any servants. Shit. She was without a weapon. If it was a naga that had managed to slip through, she was screwed. Inside, she had to get in the house and get a weapon. Taking a deep breath, Eden stood quickly not wanting to waste any time. She was not about to linger long enough to find out what it was. 

As she took her first step towards the door, blinding pain exploded in her thigh. When she looked down she couldn’t see anything, only five puncture wounds in her leg. She saw the skin tear, blood spraying onto whatever had hooked it’s claws into her skin. The shriek that left her throat felt inhumane, it was bloodcurdling and she was sure it was heard across the Spring Court. Looking down she saw the mess of muscles and veins of her thigh and oh gods was that  _ bone. _

She screamed again as freezing flames licked at the wounds. Venom. It was venomous whatever it was. She needed to stand, to get inside. But all she could do was writhe on the ground as the icy flames began to spread past her leg and crawl into her belly. Her muscles contracted painfully, forcing her to throw up everything she had for dinner. 

Out of the corner of her eye she could see one invisible foot coated in blood making its way towards her as she gagged and gasped. She screwed her eyes shut, she was so fucked. There was no way out of this one, not when she couldn’t even stand. 

A grunt made her look up. Florian, he had heard her. He had pushed it away with the wind. But her leg was burning, she was burning. A sob of relief left her lips as she saw the sword clutched in his other hand. 

Panic rose in her chest, but it wasn’t her own. No, she was in too much agony to panic. All she could think to do was wrap around it and tug. 

***

Calder sat up gasping. He had fallen asleep and awoken to excruciating pain that extended from his thigh to his chest. Jumping out of the tub he patted himself down to make sure no one had snuck up and stabbed him. The pain was beginning to make him nauseous. Breath in, breath out, he reminded himself to stay calm. 

_ Spring Court. Spring Court. Spring Court. _ It was all he could think of. His body moved without his permission as he shakily ran to his room. He didn't bother to stay silent. He dressed in his leathers, expertly closing the clasps and buckles. 

“Calder?” Meissa asked as she sat up, the blanket falling from her shoulders. He was on autopilot as he sheathed his swords and daggers. If there wasn’t something very wrong, he would be impressed with himself. 

“I-” He didn’t get a chance to answer her. 

Golden warmth wrapped around the panic building him in and tugged violently.  _ He needed to get there right fucking now _ . Calder closed his eyes as wind rushed around him and opened to find himself in the spring court. 

All around him was chaos. Alder and Florian were fighting, but their enemy wasn’t visible. All they could see was one bloodied foot. His gaze shifted to Eden and his heart sank. 

Eulalia was on her knees with her hands pressing against Eden’s shredded thigh. Her skin was clammy and pale. Leonide was trying to find a way to pick her up without Eulalia losing her grip. Her hands were stained with blood and judging by the amount there was already on the ground, Calder knew that Eden needed a healer  _ now. _

The breeze carried her scent to him, it wafted into his nose like it had done all those weeks ago. Except this time it’s sweetness was marred with the metallic scent of blood, her warmth smothered salt from her tears. Her glassy eyes met his and something inside him cracked. No, something snapped into place. He gasped. 

_ Mate. _ The same voice deep within him that was yelling at him to come had snarled. Everything slowed down for a moment as Calder trembled. He took a step towards her with every intention to pull her into his arms and curl his wings around them. 

Eden’s eyes widened a fraction before they rolled back. 

A snarl ripped through Calder.  _ Mate.  _ Whatever that thing was hurt her.  _ His mate _ . Calder was like his father, a bred killing machine. He didn’t need much to push him towards a fight when his blood sang and begged for violence. But seeing his mate injured spread a fury within him he had never felt. 

Calder never understood how his father could thrive in bloodshed enough to be named the lord of it. But as he turned his attention to where Florian was thrown into a tree, he understood. 

He threw a knife in its general vicinity. It landed true, blood spilling from the wound. Calder growled. No, he wouldn’t kill this with his knives and sword. Not with his siphons either. This thing would fall victim to Calder’s bare hands. And he would revel in tearing it apart. He would bathe in it’s blood as he dislocated bone and tore limbs off, letting blood spray across his face. He wouldn’t be satisfied until the very thing was so covered in it’s own blood it was no longer invisible. Then he’d find whoever sent it. 

Calder hadn’t left much of it. He had really tried to leave something for his uncle to identify it with but smelling Eden’s blood on it sent him into a level of anger he never thought he’d experience. Eventually Alder pulled him back, telling him it was well past dead. Calder’s chest rose and fell rapidly as his eyes searched the grounds.

“She’s inside,” Alder told him, “upstairs, the last door on the right.”

Calder didn’t say anything as he ran upstairs, dragging blood behind him. In the morning he’d clean it. But he needed to find her. He had to see her. _Now_.

The door was slightly ajar. He pushed it the rest of the way open with more force than he meant to. His lips parted slightly. Eden was laying on a healer’s bed, her leg tightly bandaged. He inched closer to her. 

Lyra eyed his movements carefully as he did, ready to intervene. 

Florian just watched. He offered Calder a towel which he took and wiped one of his hands. His trembling hand hovered over her cheek. It was still filthy and he wasn’t willing to dirty her skin with that thing’s blood. Emotions swirled in his chest.  _ Love. Loathing. Worry. Guilt.  _

“Don’t think you can get out of our match this easily,” he whispered and pressed his hand to her cheek, his thumb softly stroking away a dried up tear stain. 

“She’ll be asleep for a while, Calder. Go bathe and I’ll tell your mother where you are,” Lyra said softly. He forced down a growl. Leave his mate? “I know you want to stay with her, but Calder you’re covered in blood and Eden can’t stand the sight of it.”

That would explain her behavior the other day. He wouldn’t be the one to cause her to feel that way. His eyes met Lyra’s. 

“Go, we’ll be here with her,” Lyra assured him. 

It took everything within him to drop his hand and let Florian lead him to the bathroom. 

Mate. His mate. He had found his mate. 

And it was Eden. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it is revealed! Two revelations in this one chapter! I hope you guys liked it!


	7. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one is kind of short but I promise the next chapter will be longer! 
> 
> This sort of the buffer between the attack and Velaris. I was going to write in this chapter them going to Velaris but it felt forced and rushed so I'm going to take my time with it so I can put out a much better chapter than what I had originally written.

Emery dry heaved and threw up into his Aunt Elaine’s rose bush. His hands trembled as he gripped the gate as he threw up again. Nervousness clenched his stomach and made his legs tremble. Shit, how was he going to get through this. Maybe he should go back and come with Calder in the morning. No, that exact logic had him continuously putting this off. This needed to be done. He had hid his other lovers from his parents, but he would not hide Florian. 

“Emery?” His father’s worried face made him look up. 

Rhysand’s eyebrows were furrowed as he hurried to his son’s side. A warm hand on Emerys back, right between his winds, made his stomach roll again. Oh gods, he couldn’t do this. 

“Emery what’s the matter?” He asked, another hand gripping his arm and pulling him up. 

“I-I have to tell you and mom something,” he whispered. All Rhysand did was nod, guiding his son inside. 

They passed the front sitting room to the more homey parlor in the back of the house which faced the river. Rhysand sat him down and with a stroke of his cheek told him he was going to get his mother. 

Emery mulled it over again as he sat with his hands limp between his knees. His parents had accepted Mor, never once did they ever show any hatred or malice towards her. But it was one thing to accept her and the other to accept that their only heir would never continue the family line. With this, Emery was destroying an entire bloodline if his parents did not have another child. He knew they had tried to give him a sibling only to be met with several disappointments and heartache. And Emery would only bring them more pain. With this, Emery left the future of the Night Court in chaos.

“Emery,” his mother’s soft voice made him look up. She was worried, shit, he hated making her so worried. His lips trembled and a sob escaped his lips. In a moment, she sat next to him and pulled him into her arms. “Oh, my star, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he moaned, “I’m so sorry.”

“Relax, Emery, tell us what happened,” Rhysand urged, his eyes never leaving Emery’s. Feyre carded her hand through his shaggy hair. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling. 

“You’ll never forgive me,” He whimpered, shaking his head. 

“Emery what did you do? Tell me what you did so I can fix it,” His father asked desperately, his eyes searched Emery for any blood. Any injuries. He thinks he killed someone. Emery wish it was that simple. 

“I’ve been hiding something from you,” he whispered.

“What my star?” Feyre said in a soothing voice. 

“I’m sorry, please don’t hate me,” he cried. Rhysand lowered, cupping his hands around Emery’s. He pressed a kiss to the scarred knuckles.

“We could never hate you Emery,” he assured him, gently squeezing his hands. 

“Even if I like men?” He questioned. It was silent for a moment. Rhysand sighed, and Emery knew this was the moment he would become his parents greatest disappointment. 

“Oh Emery,” Rhysand said, taking him from his mother’s arms and into his own, making him still, “we could never hate for such a thing. You know we believe that all love is love, anyone can love who they chose.”

“B-But the line of succession, I-”

“Stop, do not worry about that,” Rhysand stopped him, “by loving men you have done nothing wrong. You have not disappointed or angered us in any way. We would never stop loving you Emery, especially not for this. For being true to yourself.”

“My star,” Feyre said, making him look at him, “why were you so scared to tell us?”

“I’d leave the Night Court without an heir,” he whispered.

“You should know better than thinking we’d put something so trivial over your happiness,” Feyre said, “we do not care who you love, Emery. Neither will our family. As long as they love you and treat you as you deserve.”

“There is nothing wrong with loving another man,” Rhysand assured him. 

Emery began sobbing again, but not in fear anymore. Intense relief washed over him and he felt like tons of bricks had been lifted from his shoulders. Rhysand continued to hug his son, scratching the back of his head soothingly as Feyre rubbed the spot between his wings. 

His heart seized in panic again, but it melted away when his father pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Relax, Emery,” he soothed, “spend the night here. In the morning we’ll get breakfast by the Sidra and I’ll winnow you to Windhaven if you feel up to it after.”

“Can I...nevermind it’s stupid,” he mumbled.

“What is it?” Feyre asked. 

“I can stay in your room tonight?” he whimpered. 

“Of course,” Rhysand assured him, “so long as you put the wings away, I don’t feel like getting a face full of wing as a wake up call.”

“Deal.” Rhysand winnowed them into the upstairs room, Emery still in his arms. He wiped away the last of his tears as Feyre pulled the blanket over them.

“You will make a greater High Lord than any that came before you, Emery,” Rhysand whispered as Emery’s eyes began to close, “do not let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

***

If Eden was awake, she would probably break his wrist. Yet, Calder still sat in a chair next to her bed and stroked her cheek with his thumb. His mother had always done it when he was upset. He had made sure all of his hands and nails were scrubbed clean so he could. 

Calder didn’t realize how coated he was in blood until he had to drain the bath for the fourth time to get pink water instead of maroon. The smell had made him gag over the edge a few times, but he managed to get through the bath as fast as possible. Every part of his being ache to be close to her. He gripped the porcelain everytime one of her screams carried down the hall. The healers know what they’re doing, he had to continuously remind himself of this. Yet the more she screamed, the more the urge to throw himself onto her and snarl at anyone who came near grew. He’d have to apologize to Lyra in the morning about the crack his grip had left on the lip of the tub. 

After he bathed, he planted himself in the seat next to her bed. He wished he knew how to use the bond to help her, how to sooth her pain that was throbbing between them. Calder knew he should feel conflicted. He had left Meissa still in his bed, yet hadn’t left Eden’s side for hours. But he felt more comfortable with Eden than he ever did with the Illyrian female, even if she would probably break a bone if he tried to get too close. 

“Mmm.” Eden groaned as her eyes opened. He froze, his thumb stopping it’s soft pattern.

“Hey,” he breathed. She blinked lazily at him, unknowingly pressing her cheek into the palm of his hand.  _ Gods it was so soft _ , he thought. Lyra had warned him that the medication they used on her was extra strong and that she’d likely be out of it for a few days, but seeing it unnerved him. Her pupils were blown wide and her eyes half lidded. But she looked relaxed.

“What are you still doing here?” She asked as her eyes slipped closed, but there was no malice in her tone. 

“I...I didn’t want to leave you...the um...”

“Mate bond.” She finished for him. 

“Yeah,” he said. She didn’t try to move her cheek from his hand. 

“Go home, Calder. Your mom is probably worried about you.”

“No.” Her eyes opened again, the slightest bit wider than before. “I’m not leaving when you’re still in pain and don’t try to lie, I can feel the pain in the bond.”

“Okay,” she mumbled. “How bad is it?”

“It’ll heal,” he answered, “it’ll probably scar.”

“I thought I was going to die,” she said. Calder didn’t even want to entertain that thought. “Is it dead?”

“Yeah,” he assured her, “I made sure.”

“Ah so it was at the receiving end of Illyrian anger? I almost feel bad for it.” He snorted in response.

“Go back to sleep, dumbass,” he said, “I’ll still be here.”

“What a pity,” her words slurred. But then she mumbled out, “Promise?”

“Yeah I promise, asshole,” he whispered with a soft laugh. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when he resumed stroking her cheek. Her other hand reached out, patting the bed until she found where his other hand was resting and wrapped her cold fingers around a few of his. His heart swelled seeing her hand wrapped tightly around his fingers.

His mate was an enigma to him. Nothing was ever clear with her. She had snapped at him, insulted him, had declared that she would never befriend any one from his court. Yet, she leaned into Isra’s side whenever they walked side by side and smiled softly at Emery’s dumb jokes. She had been borderline sad when they left. And here she was laid up in bed with her leg shredded, more worried about his mother’s reaction to him being gone rather than her health. 

Yes, she was a complex being with more contradictions than he’d care to voice out loud, but Calder was willing to unravel each knot until he knew her as she would hopefully want to know him. Wholly and unhidden. 

***

“We have reason to believe the attack was meant for Eden,” Tamlin announced. 

A few days after the attack, the High Lord had dragged everyone into the room for a much needed discussion. Eden had somehow already felt this; her and Leonide were attacked by the same thing yet she was the only one who had been infected with venom.

“But Leonide was attacked too,” Alder said as his eyebrows furrowed. Tamlin sighed.

“For the past few months there’s been attacks all over Prythian. The only two courts without had been Spring and Night, that was the reason for the Night Court’s visit. We were determining whether it was a set up to make it look like we had turned on the other courts or if we were next and if that was the case, which would be next. But in none of those attacks was venom present,” Tamlin explained, “everything else was the same. An attack at night, the victim alone, the claw marks all match but no venom.”

“What now? Increased border security? More patrols?” Eulalia questioned. 

“Do we need to strengthen the wards?” Alder asked.

“Maybe a constant watch on Eden,” Florian suggested. 

“No,” Lyra whispered, taking a seat on the bed next to Eden. Calder had taken up the other side of the bed for the past few days after finding that the closer he was the less pain she was in. “You know we love you, Eden.”

“Yes,” she whispered, fear creeping into her heart. They were going to send her away, she knew it before Lyra opened her mouth. They would send her back to her mother. 

“Tamlin and I decided to send you to the Night Court for the time being,” Lyra said. It felt like a punch to the gut.  _ Nononononono not there. Anywhere but there _ .

“You  _ what _ ,” Florian growled, “no, absolutely not.”

“Florian-” Tamlin sighed. 

“I won’t let you!” He yelled.

“You’re sending me away?” She whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. They stung as they began to blur her vision. 

“No, no tulip,” Lyra breathed, cupping her cheeks, “this is to keep you safe. We want nothing more than for you to stay with us. You are one of our children after all, but we can’t keep you safe anymore. Feyre and Rhysand can.”

“Why?” Florian said through a thick voice, tears glassing over his eyes. They had been inseparable since they met, yet here they were being ripped apart.

“For her safety, son,” Tamlin said, gently grasping his son’s arms and rubbing soothing circles into his bicep. 

“I’ll keep her safe, you have my word,” Calder said. Eden looked back at him. She wanted to feel annoyed, angered even that he would agree to this. But she felt...comforted by the notion that Calder would be there. Would be keeping her safe. 

“What if I don’t want to leave?” Eden asked, “You can’t make me go.”

“We know,” Tamlin said, “but go for a few weeks as a trial. If after those weeks you no longer want to stay, we will find another way. But please Eden, just try for us.”

“Florian will be going with you,” Lyra said. The male behind her breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Okay,” Eden whispered her agreeance. Her mate gave her back a soothing rub as it began to ache from sitting up. His hands rose to grasp her shoulders and she looked back at him. 

“Lay back down Eden, rest a little longer,” he whispered. She nodded, in no mood to argue. It wasn’t rare for her to let Calder ease her into a comfortable position. The bond told him things she struggled with saying. It was a peculiar thing. In one moment they would be snapping insults at each other, but at the slightest sight of discomfort Calder would become nurturing in a way she didn’t think Illyrians were capable of. She had to remind herself that the Illyrians were not the monsters of her mother’s threats. Her mate was no monster, even if she wanted to throttle him half the time. Even Eden could see that he was kind and caring to those he let in. She knew she could never be as open as he was and she didn’t expect him to accept someone so closed off. He had Meissa and if that made him happy, Eden would take a step back. For him.

***

Feyre did not plan to be back in the Spring Court so soon, but when she had received Lyra’s message she knew she couldn’t deny her request. Her mate had been a little more apprehensive. It was only a matter of time before the attacks began in the Night Court and what then. They’d have to protect not only their people, but Eden. 

She understood his apprehension and wrote back to Lyra that they would take her only until the attacks began here, then they’d have to send her back to Spring. 

Then Lyra wrote back a message that made her blood run cold. 

_ We think this was meant for her.  _

_ We chose your court because the mating bond between Calder and Eden snapped.  _

_ We understand your concerns, but I don’t think that Calder will willingly let her go anywhere else.  _

She had shown the message to Rhysand and his face hardened. Eden was no longer a friend’s favor, no, now she was family. Even if Calder didn’t pursue the bond romantically, they were linked forever. She was now linked to them.

So she chose Mor to go with her. Which in hindsight might’ve not been the greatest idea. Out of all of her family members, Mor had been the most against their visit to the Spring Court. While everyone was able to begin to move on, Mor could not let go of what Tamlin did to Feyre. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was her who went to save her.

“Mor,” Feyre hissed when she saw her glare. 

“I don’t like this,” Mor muttered, arms crossed. While Feyre was in casual clothes, Mor had insisted on coming in full leathers. 

“This is for your safety tulip, we still love you nothing will change that,” she could hear Lyra’s voice trying to sooth Eden. 

“I promise this isn’t us making you leave, we would never do this to hurt you,” Tamlin assured her. Mor scoffed in response, making the High Lord scowl and glare at her as he walked outside. 

“There was no need for the leathers,” he remarked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You can never be too sure whose side Spring will be on,” Mor snarled in response. 

“Enough,” Calder snapped at his aunt. Mor was taken aback by her nephew’s tone. Their relationship had always been smooth sailing since she always indulged him in whatever he wanted, especially if it went against his mother’s wishes. 

A glare settled back on her features when she saw the girl in his arms. She was small in his arms, drowned out by the blanket she wrapped in and his wings which began to curl around them. It was her bored expression that made Mor scowl. 

“Feyre! Looks like we get to go play in Velaris!” A younger male glided down the steps behind them. That’s when Mor noticed one of the girl’s hands intertwined with his. How the hell was Calder letting another male stand so close not only to his wings, but to his mate? 

“Yes Florian,” Feyre chuckled, accepting the younger male in her arms. They whispered something into each other’s ears before pulling away. Feyre patted his head affectionately. It was something she did to Emery and Calder, she only started when they grew to be taller than her. 

“Let’s not linger,” Mor said. Calder took his place next to Mor. She took the opportunity to observe his nephew’s mate. She was lesser fae judging by the curve of her ear, but she had no other distinguishing marks. There had to be something else that marked her as a lesser fae. Her head rested on Calder’s shoulder and he constantly pulled her closer. Mor sensed something familiar in the girl, she couldn’t place her finger on it. 

It was a dark energy, she knew that much. It whispered to her that Eden would bring Calder only great pain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My opinion of Mor is....complicated. I feel like when she likes you, she absolutely loves and adores you. But if she so much as has a bad vibe about you, there's nothing that could change her mind.   
> I struggled a lot with her character in ACOWAR. I loved her so much in ACOMF, but then her treatment towards Nesta and Lucien in ACOWAR left a bad taste in my mouth, it really showed a different side to her that I didn't see in the other book.   
> No hate to Mor though, she has the right to be a complex character like Nesta. I guess its the question of what kind of complex character you prefer.   
> But I do think she'd have trouble with having Eden there b/c in her mind Eden is connected to Tamlin.


	8. Time Has Taken Our True Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for not update last week I've been slammed with essays and projects. Once I jump this last hurdle of one last project due Thursday I'll much freer to update much more frequently.

Winnowing to Velaris didn’t take long, yet even as they arrived in the familiar halls of the House of Wind Calder could feel exhaustion that was not his own tugging between his shoulder blades. Judging by the limpness of her limbs and her head beginning to lull on his shoulder, Calder could tell it was Eden. The stress of leaving was settling in her stomach; he could feel the dread from the moment they had woken up that morning. None of that stopped his cousins from eagerly greeting them. Eden didn’t even move to acknowledge them. For all the things she was, she wasn’t rude. Her lack of greeting ate at his insides. Yet his aunt Mor looked even more annoyed and angered, if that was possible.

“We have to take her around Velaris when she wakes up!” Isra said eagerly, “I have the entire day planned. Breakfast here, exploring the Palace of-”

“Isra,” Caler interrupted, “I’m grateful, really I am, that you want to show her around. But she’s not in the condition to be parading around Velaris right now. Plus, I think we both know Eden would rather set herself on fire than explore Velaris.”

“By the time she’s healed, she’ll be itching to get out of bed and it’ll be strong enough where she will agree,” Isra said, “how much do you want to bet?”

“I bet-”

“Don’t bother, Isra is right,” Eden muttered against his neck, “moron.”

“Ha!” Isra mocked but then softened her expression, “We’ll do it whenever you’re ready, Eden.”

She hummed, Calder could feel the vibrations against his skin. It didn’t take long until he felt her breathing even and she became even more deadweight in his arms. 

“Come, Calder, I’ll show you her room so you can lay her down,” Feyre said. She guided him down the halls to a room not very far from the one he used when he stayed over after family dinners. Mor trailed behind them. It was clear she didn’t approve of Calder’s mate but he hoped she didn’t think Eden would hurt him. Plus, Calder knew even in this state if Eden really wanted to she could probably knock him down.

The room was a soft lilac theme inside. Isra’s old room. She rarely stayed the night anymore and if she did she stayed closer to the library having outgrown this bed because of her wings. But it served Eden’s purpose. Feyre pulled back the plush comforter so Calder could lay Eden down. Between the both of them they propped up her injured leg under a few pillows and unraveled her from the blanket she had wrapped around her. Feyre laid it across her before pulling the comforter over her. It was notably colder there compared to the Spring Court, even if it was only November. He had worried about her being cold, she didn’t own any winter attire so they’d have to take care of that. 

“Emery showed Florian to his room,” Feyre said, “I better find them before they decide to give each other proper greetings.”

“He-He told you?” Calder gaped. Right, he had forgotten he had talked with Emery just before the shitshow with Eden. How had he not remembered until now? He had passed by his cousin and not said a word to him. Fuck. 

“He did. I expect you already knew your uncle and I would not care who Emery was with,” Feyre said. 

“Of course,” Calder said, “I-fuck-I forgot he was going to talk to you.”

“Calder, with everything that’s happened in the last few days no one can blame you,” Feyre said. “Do you want to sit with her for a while?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, pulling up a chair next to the bed. 

“Good, that’ll give you plenty of time to read these,” Feyre said with a sly smile, materializing a stack of papers. Reading the big letters on the first one made him throw his head back and groan. 

“I would’ve never accepted the role as squadron leader if I knew it came with all this fucking paperwork,” He grumbled, grabbing the first packet of the pile. 

“But you love your group,” she said with a knowing smile. 

He did. Calder could’ve chosen the best soldiers training with him and led them. As the General Commander’s son he had not only first choice, but he could've also recruited the best from other camps. But he didn’t. No, he had chosen the weakest links. Devlon had been equal parts disapproving and curious. Then again, two skinny orphans had surprised the shit out of him before. Why wouldn’t the Illyrians Calder had chosen do the same?

Where most squadrons not only competed with others but within themselves to rise up the ranks, Calder’s squadron constantly worked together. Sure he pushed them past their limits way too often and they still struggled to treat his family like regular people and not their leaders, but they were much more loyal than any of the top Illyrians he could’ve chosen. His squadron would go down with him in battle, not try to stab him in the back when he wasn’t looking. 

“What are you looking at?” Eden’s voice was so low he barely heard it. When he looked up she still had her eyes closed. 

“I could feel the fondness,” she answered before he asked. 

“Recent updates on my squadron,” he answered, “they’re an odd bunch. I’ve been gone for a few days unannounced so Emery took over their training for me.”

“Doesn’t Emery have one?”

“No, he’s the next High Lord so until then he floats between squadrons,” Calder answered, “think of him as the top leader.”

“Doesn’t seem like Emery,” she mumbled.

“That little shit is full of surprises.”

“Tell me about them,” she said, her eyes finally opening. Her half lidded honey eyes stared lazily at him. 

“There’s five of these bastards. Finian, Ferris, Mikhail, Ada, Eileen, and myself,” he said, “Ferris and Finian are twins. Both of them are rather trigger happy with their siphons, they each have one. They’re talented in offensive attacks, not really great at holding up shields but we’re working on that. Between us, I don’t know which one of them is crazier. The only way we can really tell them apart is because Finian is taller but don’t let Ferris hear me say that. Ada is a talented marksman. Her wings were clipped, but she still decided to train and I wasn’t going to stop her. Especially when she can hit a target farther away than I can. But don't be fooled by her sweet exterior, she will slit a throat without blinking. She’s the oldest out of all of us in the group and her husband is in Isra’s squadron. Eileen narrowly missed having her wings clipped, Mikhail stopped them. She’s a talented chemist and strategist. Without her we’d be screwed, none of us are smart enough to pull off the plans she comes up with. I guess I would consider her my second, but we’re all in equal standing. Mikhail reminds me of Azriel, minus the shadowsinger aspect. He’s quiet and brooding most of the time, but he’s a talented spy. Also between us, Eileen and him are mates but that information is only known to our squad. Mikhail is intensely private. But he’s kind.”

“They sound like an interesting bunch,” she whispered, her eyes beginning to droop. 

“None of them are as interesting as Florian,” she snorted softly in response. “Rest, Eden.” He pushed some hair out of her eyes. Then his hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the same spot it had a few days ago. 

A knock made them both look towards the door. His wings flared protectively, but they relaxed when it was Emery who walked him. His collar was notably crumpled almost like two fists had gripped the delicate fabric. 

“Sorry to interrupt Cal, but we have a meeting with your father in Windhaven,” Emery said. He groaned again. 

“Not another tactical meeting,” he whined. 

“Yes, a tactical meeting, which we postponed,” Emery said. 

“Go,” she mumbled, pulling his hand away, “you have to go.”

Calder swallowed down the emotions bubbling in his throat that weren’t his own. Eden had never taken into consideration that Calder would put her first. 

“No, the meeting can wait,” he said strongly, gently taking her hand in his. He ran his thumb over her scarred knuckles. “Emery-”

“I’ll hold them off, but I can’t promise your squadron will be as understanding,” Emery said, “so you will have to find a way to see them soon. They’re worried.”

“No one has told them?”

“No,” Emery said, motioning towards Eden who had fallen asleep again, “she doesn’t deserve to be bombarded by Illyrians yet. What she needs is to heal.”

“Yeah,” Calder mumbled, but the implication was clear.

***

Hours felt like minutes in Velaris. Eden couldn’t tell if it was just the pain medication a healer came every few hours to distribute or if it was the serenity of a particular absence this room had. For the past few days she had spent most of her time asleep. Every time she woke up there was someone there. Most of the time it was Nesta or Calder, but Feyre was there a fair amount as well. But Calder was there every night after his time in Windhaven. 

“Getting bored yet?” He asked. 

“Not in the slightest,” she answered. 

Calder had gotten there earlier than usual that night, taking over for Florian. They usually talked before she went to sleep, but it was the first time in days she was completely awake and not being pulled to sleep by medications. It was the first day she could think clearly. 

“I got what you asked for, Lyra didn’t look happy about them,” Calder said, dropping a box onto the bed. Eden gulped, opening the box and eyeing the contents. “What are they?”

“Letters from my mom,” she answered, “a few threaten my life, others promise torture.”

“They what?” Calder’s voice dropped an octave as anger ebbed in the bond.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she said, “she’ll never do anything so she expresses it in letters.”

“Why the hell do you still have them?” His gravelly voice had a sharp edge to it. 

“When I was younger I really did think she would do some of these things so I guess I kept them as proof. Now? I don’t really know,” she mumbled, “maybe I’ll burn them when I’m truly free from her.”

“Does she still send them?” He asked. Eden handed one over for him to read. 

“No. She hasn’t for nearly a year but the longest she’s gone was two so I might just get another one soon,” she replied. 

“Eden this one threatens to jump rope with your entrails,” he said. 

“There’s one in here that threatens to scoop out my eyes, Calder. She won’t do it,” she said dismissively. After all, her mother had said worse things to her in person as a child. 

“Eden,” his voice was so soft as he pulled the box off her lap and dropped it on the floor, “that’s fucked up.”

“My mother was never very loving, per say,” she mumbled. He sighed, taking a seat next to her on the bed. His wings spread out, one curled around her slim shoulders. 

“She should’ve never treated you this way,” Calder mumbled, taking the letter from her hand and letting it fall to the floor. 

“My mother was...complicated,” she mumbled, “but she’s my mother.”

“Eden-”

“I’m tired, Calder,” she cut him off and laid down. Her back faced him but he didn’t move. Instead he laid down next to her and hummed. She could feel his fingers tracing patterns down her spine as her eyes began to droop closed. For once, she did not feel dread as she drifted off. 

***

“Should you be this close when you have a girlfriend?” She whispered tiredly. In their sleep they had moved closer together; Calder had pulled her into his arms and wings when she began to twitch. He had thought about it for the past few weeks. Even before he had found out Eden was his mate he imagined a life where it was her by his side and not Meissa. He thought of her reserved smile and the way she scowled at him. The way her short hair always got caught in her eyelashes when the wind blew. 

“What if I haven’t thought of her that way for a long time now,” he mumbled. 

“Then you should break up with her,” Eden said coldly, “stringing someone along is cruel.”

“What if I didn’t think of her that way because I was thinking of you,” he said. He could feel her stiffen against his chest.

“We-I-we...no…”

“Why not?”

“I...whatever she promised me will be extended to you,” she whispered. Fuck. Calder should’ve never gotten those letters for her. 

“Eden I-” The door was thrown open making both of them jump apart.

“Calder,” Meissa sharply said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed against her chest. 

“Meissa,” he said just as coldly. Eden sighed, curling away from Calder. 

“I’m tired Calder,” she mumbled. He knew she was lying, but he got up anyways and pulled the blanket over her. He tucked a stray hair behind her ear as he wished her good night. Meissa snarled, making his head snap towards her. In the blink of an eye he had wrapped his hand around her arm and dragged her out of the room, genty closing the door behind them. 

“Who does she think she is, you are  _ mine _ , Calder,” Meissa snarled. 

“She is my mate and she is in pain, Meissa,” he snarled back. Both of their wings flared out behind them. Her ran rose to grip the collar of his shirt but he grabbed her wrist before she could. “And I belong to no one.”

“She is a pathetic lesser fae from the Spring Court,” Meissa spat, “the loweliest court in all of Prythian.”

There would’ve been a time that he agreed with her. In the past he would’ve condemned anyone from the Spring Court to hell. But now he couldn’t. Not after meeting Florian, Alder, Eulalia, and Eden. Not after meeting Lyra. He had realized the Spring Court was much more than the High Lord’s former actions. It was full of kind people who ate too many sweets and basked in the afternoon sunlight. 

“Court does not define a person here,” he snapped. 

“I expect you to be in my bed tonight, not hers,” she hissed, her nails digging into his wrist. Calder flinched at the sharp pain which only made her scoff. “You are weak, Calder. You need me to be strong for you.” 

He wanted to retort, god he wanted to yank his wrist away from her grip. But he froze in place. Something kept him from moving away from her. She smirked, planting a wet kiss on his neck. Her nose ran along the curve of his neck before pulling away. 

“Tell her you're leaving with me,” Meissa said, shoving him towards the door, “now.”

He scowled, walking into the room anyways. He closed the door and turned towards his sleeping mate. Her breathing had evened but the blanket had been kicked away. There was nothing more than he wanted then to stay with her all night, to be there whenever she flinched or when the pain began again. But with Meissa outside he knew it would only mean trouble if he turned her away and he did not want to put Eden in that situation. So he pulled the blanket over her slightly shivering form again and ran the back of his hand against her cheek before turning away. 

Every fiber in his being screamed at him to stay, but he stepped out of the room anyways.

***

When Florian had begged Nesta to stay with Eden for the day she was conflicted. On one hand, she had duties to attend to before she gave birth that were urgent. On the other, Eden was her son’s mate and seeing Florian’s demeanor, something was clearly wrong. So, she grabbed a stack of files and had Cassian take them to the House of Wind for her. 

They sat forgotten on the desk at the other end of the room. Eden had been curled under the sheets but the girl’s shoulders were tense and curled in on herself. They trembled with silent cries occasionally. But her face was hidden beneath the mess of blankets and pillows. 

Nesta felt a sharp rip of pain in her heart seeing her. She looked so much like she had once felt. Alone. Misunderstood. Unloved. She recognized those feelings in her tight shoulders. 

“Eden,” Nesta soothed quietly, one of her hands stroking her hair and the other was trapped in a tight grip. “I know this is difficult, possibly more than any of the others. But do not hide away what you feel. Do not be afraid of the pain.”

She didn’t answer. Instead she rolled over and pressed her face into the skirts of Nesta’s dress. She did not stop running her hand through her hair, down her back, across her shoulders, and back to her hair. After a few hours of Nesta’s soothing words only being answered with silence, she whimpered. 

Nesta did not stop her soothing movements, even as the whimpers turned into sobs. The younger girl’s tears stained her dress. It did not matter to her. All that mattered was trying to console her best she could until Calder returned. 

Around the time he was meant to return, Eden finally pushed herself off the bed. Her red eyes and puffy cheeks bore holes into Nesta’s mind. 

“Help me to the bathroom please,” she whispered, her voice so uncharacteristically quiet. 

Nesta didn’t hesitate to stead Eden when she began to stand. It was a slow journey, but once inside she hauled herself onto the counter and grabbed a rag. She wiped her cheeks and ran it under warm water, pressing it to the redness of her cheeks. Then she laid it over her for a few minutes. Nesta watched her intently. It seemed like a routine. 

After rinsing her face once more, she jumped off the counter and was helped back into bed. It didn’t take long for the familiar sound of Illyrian wings fighting the wind currents to get closer. Nesta narrowed her eyes as Eden buried herself back in the sheets. If she had done this everyday, was calder even aware of how much she was hurting besides the physical pain in her leg?

***

“Okay, but if you had to chose-”

“I already told you, there’s now way I’d give up Calanmai,” Florian cut Isra off, “an entire holiday centering on my favorite pastime? Are you kidding me?”

“Dude, your dad-”

“I don’t fucking watch him! I throw my own party, ask Eden,” Florian said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“You’re a pig,” Eden answered, “but even I have to admit, a talented pig.”

“Eden!” Isra cried out in shock. 

“You see, this is why we’re friends. You inflate my ego, I give you a place to hide on Calanmai,” Floria said and took a sip of his wine. 

“You’re both despicable,” Calder said with a shake of his head. 

It was a family dinner night. As much as Calder wanted to be upstairs with the rest of his family, Eden still couldn’t get out of bed. When his cousins caught wind of that they had their plates sent to the room. So they were also having their own family dinner in the room. It reminded him of the days where they used to set up blanket forts in the library during family dinner and eat there while their parents talked court business. 

“I think the Illyrians would have a blast,” Eden said with a knowing smirk, “drinking, fucking, and eating. What more could their simple minds want?”

“There’s no fighting, we’re not interested,” Calder teased. Emery rolled his eyes. 

“There’s a few fights,” Florian said, “Alder starts most of them.”

“Yes, but Eulalia always finishes them for him,” Eden mumbled. Calder could feel her energy slipping away the more time went on. So when she laid down with her head in his lap he didn’t think anything of it. His long fingers undid the braids he had done earlier in an attempt to make it look like she hadn’t just slept for days on end. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation around him. All he could focus on was the drooping of her eyes and the evening of her breath. 

“Are you going to tell us or do we have to keep pretending we don’t know?” Isra asked, taking a long sip from her wine as her brother hissed her name at her. 

“Nosey bastards,” Calder grumbled, but then nodded, “you already know that she’s my mate.”

“Wasn’t hard to figure out,” Emery said gently, “she will always have a place here, Calder. Whether you two pursue this romantically or not, Eden will always be welcomed in the Night Court.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, continuing to stroke her hair. 

“Who would’ve guessed?” Florian muttered, “They hated each other's guts.”

“His parents were like that,” Emerys said with a dramatic sigh, “Aunt Nesta probably would’ve rather run a blade through her heart than admit she had feelings for our Uncle Cassian.”

“Don’t be dramatic” Calder said, “she’d run her blade through him and then bathe in his blood.”

“Of course, how could I be so foolish, '' Emery said through contained laughs. 

“Both of you are awful,” Isra said, “they would’ve fought over who gets to stab who.”

That only elicited more laughter from them. When he looked down at Eden, he could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smile on her lips as well. 

*** 

_ On the Continent _

Iovita stared blankly at the sisters sitting across from her. Both spitting images of each other, besides the slight discrepancy in the shade of green of their eyes. Both pairs of eyes held contempt and annoyance. 

“Why should we trust you?” The younger of the two spat. 

“Halle, dear,” he said, his voice sickly sweet as one clawed hand gripped her jaw tightly. She squirmed under his hold, her nails clawing at his pale skin. But all he did was lick his lips and smirk as she continued to struggle. 

“Atanese, that’s enough,” Iovita said, “do not toy with them. We do not have much time left.”

“Oh the way I could carve you up,” Atanese breathed, but let her go with a harsh shove. She whimpered, one hand rising to brush along the fresh bruise. 

“Why are you here? The older fae asked. 

“I come to propose an alliance, of sorts,” he said, “we work together to exact vengeance on those who have wronged our families. Isn’t that the most important in life? Our family? I killed the bastards who slaughtered my mother and you, you can exact revenge for your sister. What was her name, Ianthe?”

“You keep her name out of your filthy mouth,” the older sister snarled. 

“Nira, Nira, Nira,” he coddled, “I’m on your side, my lovely Nira. Help me and I will not only give you the vengeance you desire, but unbridled riches.”

“How-”

“Easily. To get to them, you need only to get to one of them. Eden, the General Commander’s son’s mate,” he answered. 

“How the hell are you going to get to her?” Nira asked. 

“Leave that to me,” Iovita assured them, “I know just how to handle her.’

“So, what do you say?” Atanese asked eagerly, “Shall we lay waste to that wretched island once and for all?”

Nira looked up at his handsome face and smirked. His lips spread into a wicked smile of their own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also sorry if this isn't my best writing, I'm not sure I'm very happy with this chapter. I promise the next will be better. 
> 
> In better news, I made a pinterest board!  
> Pinterest board: https://pin.it/1aPkR2Z
> 
> Also idk if you can notice what this title and chapter 6's title have in common but it'll be really funny if you o b/c so many of the upcoming titles have something in common with them.


	9. Undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deleted the update I made, but I'm sorry for taking so long on this chapter. Long story short, despite being super careful and staying at home except for grocery shopping, my dad tested positive for COVID. A few days later, I got sick. But we're both better now and I finally have the energy to write!

It was quiet in the Spring Court. Tamlin crouched behind a rosebush. Claws and fags were ready to rip apart whatever had been sent after Eden. Across the yard he caught sight of Eulalia’s eyes glowing in the night. They were waiting, watching. The blanket Eden had used was hung in the middle of the yard, still stained with blood and blowing in the wind. Calling the beast to it. Meanwhile the High Lord and his heir waited. Two predators ready to attack. 

When the blanket was tugged on by an invisible force, they both pounced. Tamlin’s clawed hands fumbled at first to grasp onto something he couldn’t see, it became easier when Eulalia joined him in holding down the beast that thrashed in their grip. 

“Now!” Tamlin roared. Alder dropped down from the nearby tree, throwing the bucket of white paint he had in his hands into the blank space between Tamlin and his daughter. 

Making it visible did not make it any less frightening. Eulalia gasped as her hold was slipping, her shifting couldn’t last as long as Tamlin’s. Her small shift in strength was enough for the beat to swing a claw. Before it could dig into her soft flesh Tamlin roared, his own claws digging into its throat until it stilled under him. His attention shifted to Eulalia when he heard her panting. 

“Did it hurt you?” He asked worriedly, his hands cupping her cheeks to check for injuries. 

“No” she assured him, “just a bit tired Papa.”

“And you?” he asked, doing the same to Alder. He shook his head. 

“Papa, look,” Eulalia whispered, pulling out a rolled up piece of paper from the beast’s mouth. 

“What does it say?” he asked as she unraveled it. 

“Oh gods,” she whispered, “this...Eden’s mother sent this for her.”

“Dammit,” he cursed. 

“Does she hate her so much to send a chimera after her?” Alder growled.

“Eulalia, send for a Day Court emissary, Helion might have an idea how this was done. Alder, send a message to Florian. This was her mother’s doing,” Tamlin instructed.

“Yes father,” Alder said, anger still in his eyes. 

“Papa...why would she do this to her?” Eulalia whispered, “Eden has done nothing to her. She’s with us now, yet...I don’t understand it.”

“Some people, my darling, only wish to cause suffering,” Tamlin whispered, “We should get inside before your mother worries.”

***

The screaming echoing throughout the room made Calder flinch. He hated that he was one of the ones holding her down, his mate, as she cried and begged. There were not enough soothing words that would stop her from screaming herself raw. Not as he pulled her up so she was in his arms and blocking the view of his father holding her leg down for the healers. Not as he cupped her cheek so she wasn’t tempted to try to look where the healers were working. 

Cleaning stitches and rebandaging was not supposed to be this painful. But each bandage was stiff with excess venom. The healers had cursed seeing her leg. It was bruised and the openings were black. Calder wanted to gag at the smell, but he held himself together in front of her. Even when they said that the excess venom had hardened in her leg and it needed to be pulled out. Like thorns. 

“Eden,” Calder said softly, using the arm that wasn’t holding her up to move the hair from her face, “breathe with me. It’s almost over.”

“Hold her still, this is a large one,” one of the healers whispered. Calder gulped as he laid her back down and used enough of his strength to keep her still. Florian moved in sync as well, gently massaging her tightened jaw. After the first thorn had been pulled he had offered his belt for Eden to bite on. It was surely ruined by then. 

“Look at us alright, just focus on what we’re saying,” Florian soothed, “just listen to our voices.”

Calder was not ready for the thrash of pain that whipped down their bond. A hiss escaped his throat which made his father look up from where he was holding down her uninjured leg. It was Eden’s scream that followed that stirred something inside Calder. Something primal. Protect mate. Protect. Mate.  _ Protect mate _ . Her muffled cries made him whip his head around and snarled at the healers before he realized what he was doing. 

“Please stop,” Eden sobbed, Calder didn’t even realize she had spit out the belt, “i-it hurts.”

“I know, Dove,” Calder said softly, pushing the hair from her face. The rapid rise and fall of her chest wasn’t normal. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if they continued this way, or if she got a glimpse at her bloody thigh. He knew he was trembling from the anger he was trying to something. He hated how they were only bringing her pain, even after he promised to keep her safe. He hated how Eden only ever knew pain. 

“Florian, go get Rhysand,” Cassian said calmly, “he can take her away from the pain. Calder, stop growling at the healers.”

That was the only solace Calder could think of, finally relief would be brought to Eden. It wasn’t uncommon for Rhysand to have done that when they were kids. For any bump or bruise, Uncle Rhys was quick to take their delicate minds into his hands until they were healed. Windhaven was a shocking wake up call. Even then, if bones were broken they weren’t above calling out to him for a moment of relief. It seemed like Rhysand had permanent tethers to their minds, ones were if they tugged hard enough he would winnow to them. So Calder tried to concentrate on the aged, faded smoky string that floated at the back of his mind. He wrapped one bodiless hand around it and tugged with as much force as he could. 

The last time he had used it was when his mother hadn’t gotten out of bed for three days after a mission had gone wrong and they thought his father was dead. 

“How can I help?” His uncle’s voice made some of the tension gathering in his shoulder loosen. 

“She’s in a lot of pain, Rhys,” Cassian said. They shared knowing looks and Calde had no doubt that Rhysand was sifting through his father’s mind. 

“Alright,” he resigned. He hated doing this without consent, Calder knew, but if Eden wasn’t in her right mind to say yes then the next few hours would be hell. But he’d stay and tread through it with her. 

“Calder,” Eden sobbed as he felt another jolt of pain down the bond. 

“Eden,” Rhysand said in the tone he used to use when they were kids. Her eyes drifted over to the High Lord, glazed over from the pain, “I can help with the pain, but I have to go into your mind for this to work. I won’t do it if you really don’t want me to. I might see things you have no intention of showing me.”

“Please,” she whimpered, “make it go away.”

It was easy slipping into Eden’s mind. It was young, untrained. Meager walls were easily knocked down until he cradled her mind in his black misty power. A shockwave of pain made him hiss out a curse, Cassian only stared at him wide eyed as his hands trembled. One shaking hand rose to her forehead and his thumb gently stroked away some of her stray hair. 

“I’m going to take the pain away now,” Rhysand whispered.

He let the mist envelope her mind until she began to relax. With a breath, she slumped into Calder’s arms. Rhysand cradled the back of her head and gently laid it against her mate’s chest. He couldn’t help the small smile when he let go and she nuzzled deeper into Calder’s shirt. Calder let out a surprised yelp at the sudden affection. It broke Rhysand’s heart knowing that this child had only ever shown affection in her lowest moments when she was probably longing for it. Never knowing how to ask for it. The only consolation he had was that she was no longer panting nor was her chest rising and falling erratically. Instead her eyes were back to the lazy stare she had given them for the past few days. 

_ Warm. Safe. Calder’s so warm _ . Her thoughts drifted into his mind.  _ I can be safe with him. Only for a while, before he leaves again. _

“Continue,” Rhysand told the healers. They quickly resumed their work without Eden ever acknowledging that they were working on her leg. 

“Feeling better, Dove?” Calder asked quietly. Rhysand raised an eyebrow while glancing at Cassian, who looked just as surprised at the sudden nickname. 

_ Dove. I like Dove.  _ Eden nodded weakly which made Calder humm in satisfaction. 

_ “Be careful!” Tamlin’s voice cried out as Florian tackled her to the ground. Eden’s laugh rang through his mind. Children...she was still only a child _ . Rhysand’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to pull away from her memories.  _ Father. Papa.  _ She thought when Tamlin pulled her back to her feet and dusted off her knees, all while gently reprimanding Florian that he had to be gentle with her wings. Wings. The thought made him freeze. 

_ “Mama says I can’t,” Eden whispered, glancing up at Tamlin and Lyra.  _

_ “Fuck what your mother says,” Tamlin grumled as he untied something from her back, “what she does is wrong.” _

_ “But-” _

_ “Eden,” Lyra said softly as she kneeled down to her height, “these wings are a part of you. You should be able to embrace them.” _

_ “Tell me if this hurts,” Tamlin said softly. Rhysand assumed he was stretching her wings but he felt...nothing. Eden glanced into the mirror and only then did he see them. _

_ Small, deformed, grey wings. But he could recognize Illyrian wings even in tatters.  _

Rhysand gulped, throwing up a wall between them so no more memories would leak through. But he had seen enough to know. The honey of her eyes was not just coincidentally like that of his brothers and so many Illyrians. Part of him wanted to rage knowing an Illyrian child had been kept from the Night Court. The other half of him worried over what happened to her small, delicate wings. Something told him he did not want to know. 

***

There was something calming about watching Calder thread his long fingers through Eden’s hair as she slept in his arms. Emery couldn’t understand why Calder wasn’t giving in, throwing himself into a bond that Eden clearly left so open for him. He could see it in her eyes when he wasn’t looking. Even if she didn’t recognize it there was love in her eyes when she looked up at him. She was only ever comfortable with him and Florian, but the trust in Florian had decades to form. She had only known Calder for a few months. 

“She looks at peace with you,” Emery mumbled, mindful to keep his voice low. The stack of paper work Emery had brought for both of them to sort out sat on the bedside table long forgotten. Eden was still lulling between being asleep and still drifting off. 

“I don’t think she knows what being at peace is like,” he whispered, running his thumb gently over the bridge of her nose. Emery had never seen his cousin be so gentle with another before. Not even with other Illyrian children. These gentle touches were for his mate. 

Their peace was interrupted by a snarl from outside the room. The voice echoing in was so clealty Meissa, which meant the snarl must’ve been Florian who was returning from taking a nap in his room. Emery saw Calder set Eden down gently from the corner of his eye as he got up and slipped out. 

“What the hell is going on?” He hissed, “She just fell asleep.”

“Say it again,” Florian snarled, his lips curling back as his fangs extended, “I fucking dare you.”

“Florian!” Emery yelped, wrapped his arms around the other male’s waist and pulled him back. 

“Say it!” He roared, “let them hear!”

“Both of you, shut up,” Calder snarled as he stepped out of the room, “or so help you if she wakes up.” 

“What are you still doing here? With that  _ lesser fae _ ,” Meissa snarled, wings flaring angrily behind her. 

“That Fae is my mate and it will do you well to remember that,” Calder snarled back, “she is here to stay.”

“How much longer will you be here? Waiting on her,” Meissa said, “a simple leg injury and she can’t even heal herself. Pathetic.”

“You fucking-” Emery dragged Florian farther away as he threw a string of curses at the Illyrian. 

“Get out,” Calder said, but his tone trembled when Meissa took a step closer. Emery froze. Calder looked...afraid as she stepped closer. His cousin was never afraid and for a moment he wondered what actually happened between them. 

“You don’t give me orders,” Meissa spat. 

“And you don’t own me,” Calder said, “this, between us, is done. Get out.”

“Are you really picking-”

“Say another word about my mate, so help me Meissa, and I won’t hesitate to report what really happened last year at Starfall,” Calder was quick to shut her down, but his face paled after realizing what he had said. To Emery, it confirmed suspicions he already had about why Calder showed up bruised to training the day after celebrations. 

“You will regret this,” Meissa hissed before stepping back. 

“C’mon Florian, let’s go for a walk,” Emery said softly when he felt the male in his arms tremble with anger. 

“But-” Calder slipped back into the room. 

“She’ll be alright. Walk with me.” It only took a subtle nod from Florian for Emery to summon his wings and pull him to the balcony. With a practiced leap, he jumped over the railing and into the air. He extended his hand to the Spring Fae. 

“Unless you want to walk the thousand steps down,” Emery offered. 

“You could use the cardio,” Florian said with a wink, but Emery could see the smile he donned was strained. He definitely didn’t expect Florian to launch himself over the edge and slam into Emery. He yelped as he scrambled to get a good grip on him. 

“You offered a walk,” Florian whispered once he was securely in Emery’s arms. Their noses brushed against each other, breath fanning across their lips. 

“Along the Sidra is the best place.” He swallowed and slowly began the flight over. It wasn’t long, but he could feel Florian’s grip on him tighten with each gust of wind. 

They landed lightly, even if Emery’s legs were shaking from his proximity to Florian. Setting down the slimer male only then did he notice the awe in his dark eyes. Emery shyly offered his hand, which Florian took with a sly smile. 

His hand was so soft, nothing like Emery’s own calloused and rough hand. Years of brute training gave him the hands of a soldier and warrior. Florian’s hands were the true hands of a High Lord’s son. One who lounged in the sun and ate honey pastries until he couldn’t stomach them anymore. Emery couldn’t understand his sister and cousin’s animosity to the idea of Tamlin’s children not having the intense training they did. The idea of Florian having to go through the brutal winters and cruel exercises he did made him shiver. If he could keep Florian from Windhaven he would. Someone so bright didn’t need to be taken to the desolate snow. 

“Calder looked frightened when he broke things off with Meissa,” Florian mumbled as they began to walk towards the banks of the Sidra. 

“I...what they had wasn’t healthy,” Emery said, “I’m glad he ended it, even if he hasn’t fully seen that yet.”

“Eden won’t be thrilled,” Florian said, making Emery furrow his eyebrows, “long story. She doesn’t like getting between people’s relationships. She also doesn’t like having so much attention on her. It makes her uncomfortable.”

“She’s an interesting one,” Emery said, “how did you meet her?”

“Ah,” Florian said with a small laugh, “I wandered into the woods and got lost. Didn’t know my way back but I ended up close to the cottage she used to live in. Would you believe that she made fun of me for getting lost in my own damn forest?”

“Yes,” Emery said, “I can.”

“Anyways, she walked me back to Rosehall. My father was sick with worry, but when I turned to introduce them she was gone. Let’s just say next time I got lost on purpose and kept a death grip on her hand,” Florian said, “since then she’s been my closest friend.”

“You found a friend in the forest...somehow that’s fitting for you,” Emery said, eyeing Florian’s fond smile. 

“I thought she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Eden used to have long hair when we were kids. It curled at the ends and she always asked Eulalia to tie ribbons around them,” Florian mumbled, “blue ribbons, like her favorite tulips. I still think that. There’s no amount of scars that would change that.”

“She sounds lucky to have you,” Emery said.

“No,” Florian said, “I’m lucky to have her.” 

“You care a lot about her.”

“I...I love her,” Florian said, his hand tightening around Emery’s, “A few years ago I almost lost her. I always knew Eden was important to me, but when I thought she was going to die I...when I thought I was saying goodbye to her I realized I didn’t want to go through life without my best friend.”

Emery didn’t like seeing the tears gathering in Florian’s eyes as memories surely gathered in his mind. Memories of pain he wished that he could shield him from. But he didn’t think that Florian would want that. So he just gave his hand a gentle squeeze and said, “she’s still here. Still with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Florian apologized, “I just...I worry about her.”

“That’s understandable, she’s your best friend,” Emery said.

“I wish she was my sister. Not just from my parents taking her in but actually having them as her parents,” he said, “it would’ve saved her form so much pain.”

The pain in Florian’s own voice worried Emery. He knew Eden was a complicated person, but hearing Florian’s concerns about her made his blood run cold. If Calder lost her...fuck Emery didn’t even want to entertain the idea of having to help put his cousin back together. 

“Enough about Edem,” Florian perked up, “she’s probably cuddling up with her mate.”

“If they haven’t torn each other’s throats out yet,” Emery mused. 

“You owe me a proper date,” Florian said. 

He stilled. He had forgotten all about that promise. In between waves of pleasure he had vowed a date, then again as they laid in the flattened roses. Emery blushed as he remembered the way Florian had effortlessly unraveled him until he had to bite down on his shirt to keep from screaming. 

“R-Right,” he stammered. 

“What are you thinking about?” Florian purred, “Me? Us? Some roses, maybe?”

“I know a place,” Emery said, “for a good date I mean! But it’s better at night!”

“Tomorrow night,” Florian said, “we have our date. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get more than just a kiss.”

“You’re an asshole you know that,” Emery said with a smile. 

“I’ve been told once or twice,” Florian shrugged, pulling on Emery’s hand until they were close to a bakery he knew all too well. They sold honey pastries. 

“How the hell did you manage to sniff them out here?”

“It’s my hidden talent.”

They had bought nearly the entire stoke. But Emery didn’t care. If he could watch Florian sit by the Sidra and soak up the sunset, he’d buy every honey pastry in Prythian for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love a healthy relationships where best friends can say I love you while it remains absolutely platonic! 
> 
> There's some fluff in this chapter between Emery and Florian, but next chapter will be their date! But don't worry, Eden and Calder make strides next chapter too!


	10. Pain Left Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot's of tea in this chapter!

“Can you just talk to me? Please?” Calder begged. 

Eden wanted to feel bad. She wanted to give in. But she couldn’t, not after what she had shown the High Lord. How could she be so stupid? So weak into letting him into her head when there was no way to control what he was going to witness. In letting him in, she had exposed her most closely guarded secret. 

Her wings were only ever her own. Until Florian’s family found out. Even then, they were always tucked carefully into her clothes. Out of sight, out of mind. They were not for the Night Court to find out about and claim her as one of their own when she had never been. A biological  _ mistake _ does not make her one of them. Her entire existence felt like a mistake. At least that’s what her mother constantly parroted it to her.  _ You were never supposed to be born, Eden. You may have wings, but they would never accept you, Eden. They’re a genetic deformity, Eden, they must stay hidden or they must come off _ . Knowing that the High Lord, one who was half Illyrian and knew damn well what he saw, also was in on her secret made her tremble. 

“No. Get out,” she managed to say without her voice wavering. There was no way she’d be able to keep her composure if he stayed. He needed to  _ get out _ so she could cry alone. 

“Eden,” he whispered, grabbing her arm and turning her so she was facing him, “please, I know something isn’t right. Tell me.”

“Please,” she whispered back, “I want to be alone.”

The silence wasn’t awkward. It was piercing either it was...comfortable. Eden couldn’t bear to look up at his silver eyes. If she did, she knew she’d break. Then someone else would know. 

“I’ll be in Velaris helping my mother with some business,” he said softly, “if you need me, just tug on the bond.” One of his hands rose to tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear and all Eden could think was  _ I don’t deserve him. _ “I’ll be back by nightfall.”

“Okay,” she whispered. She knew he wouldn’t leave unless she responded. 

Even as he flew off the balcony, her hand rose as if to call him back. 

It didn’t take long for Isra to stroll through the doors. Eden hadn’t spent much time with the older girl since she spent most of her time in Windhaven, but the few times they had interacted since she was brought to the Night Court had been fine. Back at the Spring Court their interactions had been minimal, but that was Eden’s insistence on avoiding them. So when she announced that they would be having a girl’s day, Eden figured Calder had something to do with it. 

“That big brute? No way,” Isra had insisted. She had pulled Eden down to the furs thrown onto the floor as she sat behind him on the sofa. They faced the lit fireplace. Pastries and a few bottles of wine had appeared, Eden figured it was something Isra had inherited from her father. 

“Why aren’t you in Windhaven?” Eden finally asked after listening to Isra ramble about Windhaven for nearly an hour. 

“I missed my mom,” she answered, “She doesn’t visit as much as my father does. She can’t leave her art classes unattended, not that I want her to. Those kids need her.”

“Yet you’re here with me,” Eden said. 

“Well, I have to get to know my cousin’s mate too,” Isra said, “without him there.”

“He...he didn’t ask you to come?” 

“No, Eden, I came on my own,” Isra had reassured her. “Why? Is something going on?”

“I...I told him to get out,” she whispered, tugging on the loose string at the bottom of her shirt. Well, Calder’s shirt. He had given it to her on her first morning here. She was still in so much pain but he had to go to his house for a minute and she didn’t want to leave. Her hand had gripped his wrist until he sat her up and pulled the shirt he had under his leathers over hse shoulders. It had calmed her long enough for him to get what he needed and return. She still had yet to give it back.

“Do you want to tell me why?” Isra asked. Yes. No. Maybe. 

“I was upset,” she whispered so low she knew Isra had to strain to hear what she had said. 

“And you wanted to be alone?”

“No,” she quickly answered, “I just...I...don’t think I’m good for him.”

She didn’t know why she was admitting this to Isra, of all people. Not even Florian had managed to pry out what was bothering her yet she was able to tell Isra so easily. Maybe it was her warm presence or her kind eyes. They reminded her so much of Lyra’s. 

“Eden,” Isra sighed, soon her hands were pulling Eden into a tight hug, “that’s bullshit. Right now it’s stressful, I know. You’re still healing and uncomfortable here, I understand and so does he. But the way he looks at you Eden...he’s never looked at anyone that way.”

“Why me?” She whispered.  _ Someone so insignificant doesn’t deserve his love _ . 

“Because,” Isra’s warm hands cupped her cheeks and forced her to look into her violet eyes, “you, Eden, are more special than you know. I can feel it.”

“I’m just some unimportant lesser fae-”

“So is my Uncle Cassian and Uncle Azriel, if you want to be technical about that,” Isra said, “and Alys. Would you consider them unimportant?”

She knew the stories of the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger. How they fought and nearly died against Hybern. How they led the Illyrian army into battle many times over. They were the textbook definition of brave. 

But she didn’t think of them. She thought of Alys. Alys, who was always so kind yet firm with them growing up. Alys, who always snuck them pastries behind Tamlin’s back and then always pretended to be shocked when they got caught. Alys, who held her as the healers unraveled her bandages to reveal the gaping wounds in her back where wings once sprouted.

“No,” she whispered, tears burning her eyes. 

“Then neither are you,” Isra said firmly. 

It was silent as Isra pulled away and her hands moved to Eden’s ashy brown hair. The strands now brushed the nape of her neck. Isra’s skilled fingers began to brush and part her hair. Eden didn’t question it as she sat silently. 

“There’s something else,” Isra filled the silence. 

“I don’t think Morrigan is fond of me,” Eden responded. Another sigh left Isra’s lips. 

“Mor’s attitude towards you isn’t your fault. She can’t let the past be the past sometimes. I love her, but that always infuriates me. She still sees Tamlin as the male who sold us out to Hybern and you are an extension of him,” Isra assured her. 

“He growled at her...she looked like he had never done that before,” Eden mumbled. 

“Ah,” Isra said, “Calder and Mor only get a long half the time. Sure, she buys him all he wants and indulges him where his parents won’t. But Mor won’t give Nesta the chance to show she’s better and Calder won’t stand for that. Their relationship is complicated, it probably always will be, but it has nothing to do with you.”

“I...I always bring conflict wherever I go,” she whispered.

“I don’t believe you do, Eden,” Isra said gently, “I just think others misunderstand you.”

Misunderstood. Eden didn’t think there was much to be misunderstood about her. She was a bastard child adopted by the High Lord and Lady of the Spring Court and ever since she was a child misfortune was her shadow. 

***

“The war bands are angry, Rhys,” Cassian muttered and they walked through Windhaven. Calder hung onto every word his father spoke. 

“I know.”

“Two attacks in two days, all by an invisible beast,” Cassian continued, glancing at Calder, “this can’t be a coincidence.”

“It’s not,” Rhysand whispered, nodding towards Calder. 

“There was another attack in the Spring Court,” Calder mumbled, “Eulalia and Tamlin found this in it’s mouth.”

The handwriting was foreign and the words were smudged, but there was no mistaking the curve of Eden’s name. The ink was thicker where her name was spelled and droplets stained the page between each letter. Whoever wrote this was infuriated. They wanted to cause pain. Calder would not let them. He would not let the angry printed in the page lift and strike at his mate. 

“Fuck,” Cassian cursed, “this isn’t good. Whoever sent this knows she’s here, they just don’t know where.”

“The war bands are furious that they are the targets and not the High Fae in Velaris,” Azriel’s voice came from behind them. “There’s rumors circulating about your mate, Calder.”

“What kind of rumors?” Calder had heard them all. That she had used magic on, she was Tamlin’s illegitimate daughter, that she was human, and the list went on. Each one was brushed off by Eden as gossip that not even Florian would pay attention to. 

“That she’s a traitor, she’s the one behind these attacks.” His uncle’s voice made him freeze. Traitor? The images of her bleeding out in Leonide’s arms, then her writhing on the bed. Not the same Eden whose mother only sent letters to threaten her. His mate was not a traitor. Albeit, not willing to share much of herself, Calder could feel that she was innocent. It wasn’t her blunt tone or brutal honesty that told him this, it was the flashes of warmth and curiosity that would ebb down the bond. His mate was innocent, and even if it turned his entire court against him, he’d prove it.

“Eden is not the traitor,” Calder snarled. 

“We know, son,” Cassian said, “we just need to prove it.”

“Whose spreading the rumor?” His father and his uncles hesitated. They shared a look that told Calder they knew, yet they were unwilling to tell. “ _ Who? _ ” 

When Calder was younger the Illyrians had called him the Prince of Bloodlust. He had the same craving for war and violence as his father, but the power he had inherited from his mother had given him an edge that his father hadn’t. It always seemed that while Cassian was able to reign himself in after a battle, Calder wanted to bathe in the blood a little longer. The violence called to him, but it also terrified him. 

Yet, for the first time, he let that whisper of chaos become a yell as he marched across camp. The other Illyrians cleared the way as his wings flared out. He could feel his siphons crackling with power and if he looked down he’d see it sparking around his fingers like small bolts of lighting. But he didn’t try to stop himself. Not this time. Not when it was his mate who would suffer because of this. 

“Meissa!” His voice carried across the training ground. 

She flipped a younger girl onto her back using a dirty move and if it wasn’t for the girl’s quick thinking, she would’ve broken her wing. Meissa was always careless when it came to others. He had always seen it yet he couldn’t fathom why he let himself be drawn in. 

“What? Come crawling back already?” She said with a smirk, “Want me to warm your bed?”

Calder couldn’t stop himself as towered over her, his lips curling back into his snarl. His eyes burned as he glowered down at her. 

“Do not dare to speak my mate’s name,” he snarled.

“And if I do?” She snapped back. 

Calder couldn’t find words to respond, but the rumbling in his chest was enough. Meissa cowered back at his growl. There was sick satisfaction there. She had spent years intimidating him, breaking him down until she was all he thought he deserved. Not anymore. 

“Doesn’t matter. All she’ll ever be is a half-breed,” Meissa snapped, “check her back, you’ll know the truth then.”

Calder knew his mate. He knew the truth. But the idea still bothered him as he maintained his glare when he shot into the sky. The wind blocked out the shocked and disgusted reactions of the Illyrians. Had he heard, he didn’t think he’d be able to control himself. 

He tried to lessen his trembling. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t angry at Eden. It was Meissa and her petty rumor. But that was all it was, a rumor. Eden would disprove it like all the others and they’d soon be sitting in their comfortable silence. 

“Calder?” She mumbled, “You’re early.”

“Your back,” he muttered as he paced. 

“My what?” Her tone was stiff and the panic that echoed down the bond made him stop. 

“Your back,” he repeated, “can I see your-”

“No.” She was firm. “What interest do you have in my back anyways?”

“Meissa is spreading rumors about you. That you’re the traitor,” he explained. Eden relaxed into the pillows. 

“That’s not all is it,” she asked. 

“She called you a half-breed,” he said, “I’m going to ask this once, Eden. Please be truthful with me. Are you half Illyrian?”

“No.”  _ Lies _ . 

“You’re lying. Why?”

“Why does it matter?” She snapped. 

“It matters so I can clear your name!” He yelled, “Unless they’re right!”

“How could you think that I’d do this to myself?” Her eyes were wide with hurt, but that ugly whisper within Calder urged him to keep going.

“Then what is it?” He asked, “What are you hiding?”

“I-”

“I’m your mate! You’re supposed to trust me!”  _ Calder stop this before you go too far _ , he tried to grab onto that thirst that he always smothered but his hands kept slipping and his eyes kept burning. 

“I don’t trust any one!”

“You trust Florian!”

“That’s different!”

“Why is it so different?!” His voice boomed across the room. 

“Because my wings are none of your business!” She finally cried out. Calder froze. Wings. She had... _ wings _ . 

“You have...wings,” he whispered. 

“I had wings,” she snapped. 

“What happened to them?” He asked. 

“None of your fucking business,” she whispered harshly. 

“Eden,” he breathed her name, “was it your mother?”

“None of your business,” she said again. Calder reached out and grabbed her hand gently. 

_ Then Calder’s blinding rage was replaced with another sight. He wasn’t in the House of Wind anymore, no, he was in a forest. He easily recognized it as the Spring Court. What the hell was he doing here? _

_ “Eden!” A shrill voice snapped and he turned. Oh god, he’s in a memory.  _ Get out. Get out. Get out _. He repeated to himself, but he stayed.  _

_ “Yes mama?” Her voice was so young, so sweet. He felt her shift uncomfortably. Wings. She had wings, but they were bound tightly to her back. There should be pain in wings being bound but Calder felt only numbness.  _

_ “Come here, darling,” That same shrill voice called her. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around this child and pull her back, but she moved forward.  _

_ “Mama?” She asked curiously.  _

_ Her mother was a tall, imposing figure with the darkest eyes he had ever seen and brittle black hair. He knew this wasn’t what she really looked like but this is what Eden saw. A monster.  _

_ “Be truthful with me, Eden,” she whispered and Calder winced at his own choice of words.  _

_ “Okay Mama,” she said eagerly, she wanted to please her mother.  _

_ “Have you been untying your wings when you’re not supposed too?” She asked, her pointed nails traced down her cheek. Eden’s skin burned in embarrassment.  _

_ “Yes Mama, I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  _

_ “Oh, Eden,” her mother feigned disappointment. A sharp pain bit at her cheek where her mother’s nails had broken the soft skin.  _

_ “I’m sorry Mama,” Eden whimpered.  _

_ “What did I tell you Eden? They must stay hidden or they must come off _ ,”  _ her tone was sickly sweet as Eden was pushed onto the ground. An invisible force kept her pinned. No matter how hard she fought it or  _

_ Calder screamed in agony along with Eden as he felt claws dig into his back and drag down the length of her delicate wings. Bound they were an easy target. Easy to eviscerate.  _

_ Blood filled Eden’s mouth as she screamed. Her wings were free from their binds, but all her mother did was twist them at the base until a sick snap filled the air. Eden gasped as blinding white agony echoed from her back. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. All she could do was lay there, trembling as her mother continued to pull her apart.  _

Calder stumbled back, his hands flying to his back. He felt for the base where his wings melded into his back. They were still there, still intact. A whimper made him snap out of his panic. Eden was sitting on the bed, her hands trembling and reaching for her own back. A pained cry left her lips. Calder bent down next to her, pulling her hands away. Her pupils were blown wide and sweat gathered at her brow. 

“Eden,” he said, “hey, snap out of it.”

All she did was whimper in response. He sighed, sitting beside her. Her hands had gripped his wrists. 

“You’re safe, you’re in the House of Wind,” he said, “We’re in your room. We were arguing and I was pulled into a memory. It’s the past, it’s over now.”

“Over,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, over,” he said. His hand cupped her cheek and brushed away a few stray tears with his thumb, “come back to me, Dove.”

“Dove..” 

“Yeah, Dove,” he said softly. 

They stayed there for a while. Calder would ease her whenever he heard her breathing hitch even in the slightest. Occasionally, she would mumble a few of the words he would softly tell her. She crawled into his lap at one point. Calder had hugged Eden plenty of times, but this was the first time that the shirt she wore was this enough for him to feel the raised skin on her back. Two long scars marked where her wings once were. It made him sick to think of what was done to them, but he kept himself grounded. For her. He couldn’t let himself slip. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered, her eyes no longer glazed over. 

“You should not have to apologize for that, do not apologize to me. I should be the one asking for forgiveness. Sometimes there’s this...darkness in me and I can’t hold it back. But that’s no excuse,” he said softly, his fingers still tracing her scars. 

“I’m sorry I keep causing you trouble,” she mumbled. 

“You don’t cause me any trouble Eden. The Illyrians, Meissa, that was all my doing,” he sighed, “there not for you to worry about. You have to worry about getting better.”

“But the rumor-”

“Will stay a rumor. You’re safe here, Dove,” he whispered, “I promise.”

She nodded. Then she asked to sleep and Calder wasn’t going to deny her when he felt exhaustion through the bond. 

As he laid there with her curled in his arms, he knew he couldn’t let any more harm come to her. He’d shield her with his wings from anyone else who wants to bring her only pain. 

So long as he was her mate, he promised that Eden would only ever know happiness and comfort. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Calder knows the truth! This was the first thing I ever wrote for Night's Spring so it feels so good to finally share it with you!


	11. Burning at Both Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go easy on me, never in my life have I written smut. I don't even really read it because of personal reasons which make it uncomfortable for me, but it felt right for this moment in the story.

Florian knew what he did to Emery. He could see it in his stare, especially when he wore his lucky pair of white trousers. When Calder offered to spar with him, Florian couldn’t help but peel his shirt off when Emery walked in. if Calder noticed, he didn’t say anything. But Emery’s darkening eyes said enough. 

Their date had gone smoothly. A walk by the Sidra, dinner and drinks at Rita’s. But it felt...forced. Florian sensed there was more than what Emery was saying and his heart sank. He thought himself foolish for believing that Emery could want him for more than what his reputation had perceived him to be. So after a night of dry conversations and no kiss at the end, which Florian made a point to do seeing as they had been sneaking around for a while. Florian couldn’t remember the last time he had been made dizzy with a kiss. Emery seemed to have it all, but Florian’s past lovers had taught him better. 

He spent the next few days avoiding Emery. It would be easier creating distance than having to face the possible reality that the male he had been falling fast and hard for only wanted him for sex. 

Yet, it was not a surprise that as Florian walked down the halls of the House of Wind, a hand wrapped around his neck and pushed into the wall. He smirked and licked his lips at the dark expression on Emery’s face. 

“Oh I’ve missed you,” Florian breathed, biting his lip. 

“That was unfair,” Emery mumbled, pressing a wet kiss to his lips. Florian’s hands tangled in his shirt and pulled him into one of the rooms nearby, slamming him against the door as it shut. Desperate lips crushed against each other as roaming hands grasped at silk and skin. Florian smirked as he pushed his knee between Emery’s legs, feeling him harden against his leg. 

“Miss me?” He breathed into Emery’s ear then nipped at his earlobe. Emery whimpered as Florian put the slightest pressure on him. 

“Please don’t tease me,” Emery gasped. 

“Oh Emery,” Florian teased, his hands running down the length of the other male’s panting chest until he reached the button of his pants. “Please.” Another whimper left Emery’s throat as Florian pulled away for a moment. He pressed his forehead to the older male’s. Fear crept into his chest and he closed his eyes. 

“Hey,” Emery’s breathy voice whispered, his hand cupping Florian’s cheek. His eyes slowly opened. “You are so much more than what you think you are.”

“Promise me I’m not just another quick fuck for you,” He whispered, tears burning in his eyes. He had wanted to ask since that afternoon in the Spring Court. 

“Florian,” Emery whispered, his voice so hurt. “Never-you-never. Why would you think that?”

“That’s all I ever am. The High Lord’s handsome son, only ever a conquest,” he whimpered, letting the tears slip down his cheek. Emery whimpered, this time not from pleasure like before. Emery kissed them away. 

“Let me show how much you mean to me,” he breathed, walking Florian over to the bed and pushing him onto the soft mattress. It was so different from the way Florian had desperately taken control in the Rose Garden. 

Emery’s touch was soft, light against Florian’s heated skin as they undressed. Where Florian was rough and passionate, Emery was gentle and sensual. 

Florian’s fingers tangled in Emery’s hair when he took his length in his hand. Florian gasped, hips stuttering forward at his slow movements. No one had ever taken care of him, none of his lovers ever wanted to love him. They only ever wanted to be loved by him. But with every kiss Emery placed on his neck, on his collarbone, on his lips, he left promises.  _ To take care of you. Never to mistreat you. To value you.  _ When Florian’s head tipped back as he cried out in pleasure and spilled out all over his stomach, Emery pulled him into the deepest kiss they had ever shared. Tongues slid past lips and Florian’s thighs trembled as Emery maneuvered himself between them. 

No one had ever been so...careful with him. More whimpers and soft moans slid past his lips as Emery prepped him. He rose again, pressing another deep kiss to Florian’s lips.

“I promise-”  _ kiss _ “to always”  _ kiss _ “love you,” Emery whispered, his eyes never leaving Florian’s. With a small gasp Florian let the emotions spill over. Emery was slow as he pushed into Florian, his lips pressing loving kisses into his neck. He moaned when Emery sucked on the one sensitive spot on his neck. 

Sex was not foreign to Florian. He had spent plenty of his free time finding someone in the town’s tavern to bed. He liked sex; liked the roughness his pleasure entailed. He liked to see his partners writhe under him as he pounded into them. He liked taking care of his partners after. 

But no one had ever made love to him. Not until now with Emery. No one had ever caressed his cheek as they rolled their hips into him. No one had made Florian utter out a sob as they thrusted into him. 

Emery stopped, staring at Florian. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, wiping away the witness of Florian’s cheeks. 

“Never,” Florian gasped, “please never stop.”

“I won’t.” It was only a few more thrusts until Florian was crying out, coming undone with trembling legs. Emery followed with his own cry muffled in Florian’s neck. 

Florian’s eyes closed as he panted. Part of him still expected Emery to disappear, to leave him to clean himself up. Instead, warm calloused hands pulled him onto Emery's chest. Florian’s eyes drooped as his head rose and fell with each of Emery’s breaths. He nosed at Emery’s chin, inhaling his sweet scent of lavender and lemon, which made the older male gasp. Florian looked up curiously. 

If Emery’s eyes were full of love before, as Florian looked at them now they were full of adoration. His trembling hand rose to trace Florian’s lips, to push his blonde hair out of his face. The most beautiful, radiant smile spread across his face as his breaths quickened. 

“What is it?” Florian asked. 

“It’s you,” Emery whispered, his hand settling on Florian’s cheek, “you’re my mate.”

_ Mate _ . The word echoed in his mind. When Florian pressed another kiss to his jaw, something shifted in his chest. He knew what it was as he nuzzled Emery’s neck and swung his leg over his.  _ Mate.  _ His  _ mate _ . 

“And you’re mine,” he whispered. 

Florian had longed for a mate for so long, someone to love him as his father loved his mother. With Emery, he knew he could have that.

“Rest, Florian,” Emery whispered, hand still cupping his cheek and his thumb softly stroking his cheek bone. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

“I know.” Florian let his eyes close as he listened to his mate’s heartbeat. 

Incessant knocking made Florian groan. He was still curled up against Emery, who in his sleep had summoned his wings and wrapped the smooth membrane around them. Staring at Emery’s slack face and hearing the soft snores that were trapped between his wings he decided, who ever was knocking could wait. 

Until the door knob started to jiggle, followed by the telltale sound of a food slamming against the door. 

“Can you please open and tell them to leave?” Emery mumbled, pressing a kiss to Florian’s temple. 

“Mmmm, will they have to deal with you later?” Florian pushed a stray hair from his mate’s half-lidded eyes. 

“Depends.” An even harsher kick echoed. 

“I’ll open before they bust the door down,” Florian grumbled. 

He readied himself to snarl at whoever had been trying to get in, his money was on Calder or Isra. His fingers curled around the pink silk robe he had brought from the Spring Court. It was his birthday gift when he had turned 18 from Eden. She shyly explained that the reason she was holed up in her room for the few weeks leading up to it was that she was painting the robe herself. Delicate tulips, yellow roses, and cornflowers decorated the soft fabric . He didn’t even know it was something she could do. Eden wasn’t one for always giving gifts, most years she’d give him a hug, but Florian wasn’t one to demand that of her. Their friendship meant more to him than flimsy material items he’d lose in a century or so. Except the robe. He’d keep it with him until his last breath. 

“What?” He snarled as he yanked the door open. 

“I-I-” Eden shuttered. Regret burned in his chest. 

“Shit,” Florian breathed, “I thought it was Calder or Isra, I’m sorry.”

Eden stayed silent. Instead, her trembling hand rose to show an opened envelope. A blood red envelope with a golden seal. Florian’s heart stopped when he caught sight of it. He didn’t hesitate to rip it out of her hand and gaze over the black inked words on the paper that smelled of rotting flowers. 

“When did you get this?” He asked. 

“I-It w-was in my ro-room,” she whimpered. 

“Fuck.” The note was cruel. It promised only death and pain to those around her in visceral detail. As much as it bothered him, he knew when these notes were directed at her she didn’t care. But if it targeted her friends, it sent her spiraling. 

“Sh-She said she’s coming,” Eden whimpered, falling forward. Florian was quick to react. He caught her and lowered to the floor with her in his arms. She was freezing and he could see the ends of her hair were wet. 

“Where’s Calder?” He asked, carding his fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to calm her. 

“I don’t know!” She wailed, the cries that followed tugged at his heart. A warm hand on his shoulder made him look up. 

Emery was standing there, dressed in his leathers again. In his hand was the discarded letter. There was a stern look on his face. Florian had never seen Emery look so much like a High Lord’s heir than in that moment. Tall and broad with the shadows he controlled seeming to loom behind him as his violet eyes seemed to glow. Florian knew he read the letter and its copious threats. 

“She threatened Calder’s wings,” Emery growled, making Eden cower even more in Florian’s arms. 

“It’ll be fine,” Florian assured her.

_ I’m going to find him, he should be in Windhaven,  _ Emery’s voice echoed in his mind. Florian gave a subtle nod.  _ Do not take her back to her room. I’ll send for someone to change your sheets, she can stay in my room meanwhile. _

Florian watched as Emery stalked off. He didn’t say anything as fractals of ice were left behind in his wake. 

***

“If you feel uncomfortable, we leave,” Calder said softly, tucking a hair behind her ear. Gods, his mate was a wreck. Her hands wouldn’t stop trembling and her eyes were wide, wild as they scanned his face. Then they stared into nothing. He had no doubt that her instincts were dialed up three notches. So, he grabbed her hands in his larger ones and gave them a gentle squeeze. 

“Okay,” she whispered. 

“Or we can go back to the room and pretend this isn’t happening for a few more hours,” he said. Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head. “Dove, you need rest.”

“You already missed too many family dinners because of me,” she whispered. 

“Eden, you are my mate,” he said, “you come first.”

“You need to be there,” she whispered, “your aunt is coming.”

“One tug on the bond and we leave, okay?” He mumbled. Thankfully, she nodded in agreeance just as Isra peaked her head into the hall they were standing in. Her eyes were just as worried and sleepless as his. 

“Aunt Mor is here,” she said, “I can stay-”

“We’re both going,” Eden said, voice wavering. Calder wanted to pull her back into the room and wrap her in his wings. But he let her lead the way into the dining room. 

His entire family was there but their eyes were on Eden. It was silent as they walked over to the table and Calder wished for once they were their rowdy selves. Instead, they watched as he pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit beside Florian before he took his own seat. Right across from his Aunt Mor. From the corner of his eye he saw Florian gently bump his knee with her and then her hand rise to squeeze his thigh. He had noticed the movement that fateful dinner at the spring court that ended with a miamed Leonide. He pretended not to notice. Which wasn’t hard once he got a waft of Florian’s scent. It was the same blend of peonies and spring air that Florian always carried but it had a hint of...Emery. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots seeing how close his cousin was to the Spring Court male. How his eyes never left the blonde’s figure. A wolfish grin spread across his lips, which was mirrored by his father who sat across from Eden. 

“Got an announcement, Emery?” Calder asked. 

“No, shut up,” Emery snarled. 

“I think you do,” Cassian prodded at his nephew, “c’mon, we’re all family here. Isn’t that right,  _ Florian?” _

Mor’s head snapped to them when she heard Cassian’s tone drop into the one he always used to tease his mother. The look on his aunt’s face was anything but pleased. It did not match the happy cries of his Aunt Feyre, who ran over to hug the two males. 

“My baby is growing up so fast!” Feyre cried out, planting kisses on both Emery and Florian’s heads.

“I thought mates were supposed to be rare,” his mother teased, her belly much more swollen than from when he last saw her, “congratulations, nephew.”

“Thank you, Aunt Nesta,” Emery said.

“A toast is in order!” Rhysand announced, “to the two new pairs of mates!”

Calder saw Eden swallow but ever so slightly lift her glass off the table. Warmth filled his chest the longer he stared at her. His mate. His other half. Without thinking, he pulled her closer and hummed happily when she leaned into him.

“Finding your mates so young is truly a blessing,” Rhysand glanced down at where Feyre had taken her seat beside him, “it is a connection and love like no other. To an eternity of happiness and prosperity.”

“And babies, lots of babies!” Elain chirped. Soft laughs echoed through the hall. 

“You into lots of babies?” Calder whispered in Eden’s ear. 

“I...I don’t know…” she whispered back, turning her head to meet his eyes. 

“We have an eternity to figure it out.”

“Cheers!” Cassian yelled and happily down his glass. 

“Cheers, Dove,” Calder said, downing his glass and Eden’s when she passed him her drink. 

“Now...the mating ceremony,” Cassian said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I’m not listening to this,” Mor scoffed. Calde and Emery growled in response. 

“Awe, what’s wrong Morrigan?” Floran had a dangerous glint in his eyes, one Calder had never seen. But judging by the hardening of Eden’s gaze she was well acquainted with being it’s witness. “Don’t want us Spring Court  _ filth _ to taint your precious Court of Dreams?”

“Florian,” Eden hissed. 

“No, Eden,” Florian waved off her hands that tried to tug him back as he leaned forward, “I have ears everywhere too. Although it didn’t take me reaching out to them to know how you feel about me and about Eden. It’s written on your face.”

“I just don’t like liars,” Mor said, eyes burning holes into Eden. Calder’s blood ran cold at the idea of his aunt knowing Eden’s secret but not knowing the full story. Only knowing that Eden is Illyrian, but never knowing it was her own mother who ripped the wings out of her back, and announcing to everyone. Including the other two Illyians at the table.

“Mor,” Feyre snapped, “what are you talking about?”

“Have anything you want to share, Eden?” Mor questioned, batting her eyes.

“No,” Eden snapped, but Calder could see her knee bumping Florian’s. But his hand didn’t squeeze her thigh, it was curled into a tight fist. His knee bumped hers back. 

“You sure?” Mor leaned on her hands, “no extra...connections we should know about?”

Eden stood and slammed her napkin onto the table. Her lips her lips were curled back into a snarled as she growled, “go fuck yourself.” In another second she was stalking off. Calder rose, glaring down at his aunt as his mother turned to her. 

“I would hope, Morrigan, that you would be old enough not to treat a child with such contempt for something she had nothing to do with,” Nesta said calmly. 

“I have things I need to know as well...” Calder let it fade away as he followed Eden out to the hall.

“Hey, Dove,” Calder said softly, his hands pulling her to a stop. 

Her teary eyes broke his heart. He knew how delicate her trust in him was, mate or not. How fragile her faith in the Night Court was. There was no way he was going to let his aunt shatter it. 

“I...can we just go?” She whispered. 

“Yeah, yeah let’s get out of here,” he said softly, “I’ll take you somewhere special, alright?”

***

By special Eden certainly didn’t think of his town house. There wasn’t much in it, practically nothing compared to the House of Wind. A few rooms were still empty. The kitchen was bare and only one bedroom had furniture in it. The other rooms had boxes of unpacked things which had dust collecting over top. 

“My parents got it for me,” he said, “but I stayed in Windhaven. I like to stay here sometimes, clear my head away from everyone. Maybe one day actually have it look like a functioning house.”

“It’s...nice,” she mumbled, looking over his room. The red wallpaper and stained glass windows were unlike anything she had ever seen before. Her fingers ran over the dark wood of his bed frame and canopy which also had red curtains to match the walls. “You like red?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “would you believe me if I say I was upset my siphons weren’t red like my fathers?”

“I’ve never heard of silver siphons,” she mumbled, “Leonide would teach me some stuff, but he’s Spring Court. He doesn’t know much about the Illyrians either.”

“Before mine, no, no one had ever seen silver ones,” Calder said, leaning against the bedpost. “They think it has to do with my mother’s power.”

“Tamlin told me about what she did in the war,” she said softly, “how she could feel the wall.”

“Yeah,” Calder mumbled, “I’m not that different, I don’t think.”

“What do you mean?” Eden watched as he shifted nervously.

“When we were kids our parents took us to visit Miryam and Drakon,” he began, “I was 10, barely starting my real training in Illyria. But it was summer and some of the other kids got breaks for doing well. So we went.”

“Is it beautiful?” Eden interrupted. She had heard the stories of the island, of its wonders. Calder smiled softly. 

“I’ve never seen anywhere as beautiful,” he said, “we were all enamoured with it. Isra and I ran to the beach as Emery cried about the sand. It was...wonderful.” Eden watched as Calder’s face fell into a dark expression. “Then I heard it. It was just a whisper at first so I ignored it. But it got louder the longer we were there. Until one night it felt like I woke up and I felt like I was in a trance. Something was calling me, pulling me deep into the palace. I don’t know how I managed to slip through all of Drakons safeguard, the same way I winnowed to you I guess, but...it was the Cauldron.”

Eden sucked in a breath. It was foolish of her to think that maybe, just maybe, Calder wouldn’t be afflicted with the same consequences that came with his mother’s power. Eden was well informed by her mother just what those were. 

“What happened?” She asked. 

“I...I was so close to jumping in. If it wasn't for my mother who heard it too, I don’t know what would’ve happened,” he mumbled, “I don’t want to think about what it would’ve done to me.”

“Have you ever heard it again?” She wrapped her hand around his curled fist. 

“Yeah, twice. Once when I was younger and...and when I winnowed to you,” he said, “it told me you were dying. Not exactly what you thought you were signing up for?”

“No but...we all have our secrets,” she mumbled.

“I’ll guard yours with my life,” he whispered, cupping her cheek. Eden leaned into his warmth and breathed in his scent. 

“Me too.”

_ “Calder!” Her shrieks tore at her throat as someone held her down, she couldn’t see who. Every fiber of her being burned to throw them off but she wasn’t strong enough. Sobs racked her shoulders as she screamed his name again.  _

_ “This is your fault, Eden, if only you had been a good little girl,” Her mother circled where Calder was laying on the floor.  _

_ “Get away from him!” Eden screamed. Her mother’s hands wrapped around Calder’s wings, just she had hers. _

“No!” She screamed just as the sickening crack filled her mind and she shot up. Every part of her trembled as sweat coated her skin. 

“Easy,” Calder’s voice made her turn.

“Hey,” he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m right here.”

“You-Your-” she stammered, launching into his arms. Her hands reached past his shoulders until she felt where wing met skin. “I had dream they...she…”

“It’s okay,” he repeated softly as he wrapped his arms around her, “how about a bath then back to bed, hm?”

She nodded in response. 

Calder lifted her off the bed with ease. Her trembling figure clung to him even as he lowered her onto the sink to draw the bath. If only he had Nuala or Cerridewn here to do this so he wouldn’t have to let go of her. He didn’t flinch when he felt fingers gently grasp onto the edge of his wing. 

“Alright well,” he said as he stood, “shut it off when it’s full enough-”

“Stay,” she cut him off. Calder gulped. But he nodded when he saw the fear swimming in her eyes. 

Their compromise was him turning until she was under the pink, milky water. Calder had added the same oils and soaps his mother did when he had nightmares. Turning, the first thing he saw were the two, long jagged scared that covered most of her back. A soft whine was trapped in his throat as he kneeled down next to the tub. Eden rested her head on her arms and watched as he moved. 

“It’s okay,” she mumbled. 

The skin was rough under his touch and cold. It didn’t stop him from tracing each of them carefully. From her shoulders down to mid back. Then the marks left behind by stitches. The memory flooded his mind. She was so young, so  _ small _ when this was done to her. Calder swallowed down the bile that threatened to spew out as he heard her screams in his mind. 

“They’re ugly, I know,” she mumbled. 

“No,” he said, more forceful than he meant as he cupped her cheeks, “they’re proof you’re alive. That you did not let her win that day.”

“I didn’t,” she whispered, “I lost them.”

“But you’re alive,” he whispered, “and you’re stronger now without them.”

They stared at each other’s expressions. Calder’s eyes grazed over her features. Her full cheeks which puffed up when she was annoyed. The curve of her nose. His thumb traced around her soft lips and he watched as she swallowed. He lowered, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“Stop me, if you don’t this stop me,” he breathed, feeling her own breath fan his cheeks. She gripped his wrist in response and brushed her lips against him. 

Calder did not waste anymore time and pressed his lips to hers. She stilled for a moment before pressing back. He smiled against her lips as her mouth opened ever so slightly. 

“Oh Dove,” he breathed, reattaching their lips in a passionate kiss. 

This was all he needed. This was all he’d ever need.

***

Lyra tensed when she felt a new presence in her court. It was barely morning. Her mate was still asleep next to her as the sun peeked from behind the trees. His bareback faced her as she stood up and neared the window. Pulling back the curtain she saw nothing. Maybe she was imagining things. She had been so on edge lately. Even with the lovemaking she had with her mate the night before, her nerves still rattled incessantly. 

Until she turned back around and felt a hand wrap around her throat. She didn’t recognize the male standing in front of her. He tilted his hair in amusement as his red hair swayed along with him. Lyra gasped for air, clawing at his tight grip. 

“Let her go, Atanese,” an all too familiar voice said, “wouldn’t want to upset the High Lord.”

The male, Atanase, let her got and Lyra gasped. Coughs racked her chest as she tried to suck in any air. Warm hands pulled her onto the bad and looking up she saw Tamlin snarling at the two figures. His features were on the cusp of shifting a full beat. 

“You’re not welcome here,” Tamlin snarled. 

“I’ll cut to the chase then. I’m looking for my daughter, Tamlin. I have several promises to make good on.” The smile that spread across their red painted lips made fury burn in Lyra’s veins. 

“I won’t tell you again,” Tamlin warned, “get. Out. She is no longer yours to torment.”

“Iovita,” Atanase said with a pout, “are they really not going to tell us?”

“Seems not,” Iovita sighed, “I’ll just have to find her myself. Oh, but before I do that.”

A scream ripped through Lyra’s throat as she watched Tamlin crumble. Atanase lifted his bloodied hand with satisfaction in his eyes. Her mate gripped his side as he tried to stay awake, Lyra crawled off the bed and pulled him into her arms. They watched in horror and Atanase began to lap at the blood.

“I’ll be off then,” Iovita said, “oh and I’ll be sure to give Eden your regards.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I'm sorry for taking so long with updates my mental health has taken a nose dive as of recent and the stories I've been writing (the Shinsou series) has been an outlet that just did not work the same way for Night's Spring. I've hit a road block with my mental health but I'm really trying to focus on getting myself better. And on writing for this series. 
> 
> Updates might be slow for a bit but I have not forgotten or given up on this story!


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